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RAFAEL IN ITALY 
KATHLEEN IN IRELAND 
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GERDA IN SWEDEN 



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BETTY IN CANADA 
DONALD IN SCOTLAND 
MARTA IN HOLLAND 
HASSA^f IN EGYPT 
JOSEFA IN SPAIN 




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DAUGHTERS OF SUNNY SPAIN 



Little People Everywhere 


JOSEFA 
IN SPAIN 


BY ETTA BLAISDELL McDONALD 

»» 

AND JULIA DALRYMPLE 


Authors of " Kathleen in Ireland,” “ Manuel in Mexico,” “ Um4 San io 
Japan,” “ Rafael in Italy,” “ Fritz in Germany,” ” Gerda in 
Sweden,” ” Betty in Canada,” “ Boris in Russia,” 

” Hassan in Egypt,” etc. 


Illustrated 


BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
1912 



Copyright^ igi2, 

By Little, Brown, and Company, 
All rights reserved 


^3rfnte« 

S. J. Parkhill a Co., Boston, U.S.a. 


Cci.A3aoa72 
V<_o / 


PREFACE 


“ Come with me to Spain and I will show you 
all the world/’ a famous traveller once said. From 
the lofty, snow-clad mountains and deep valleys 
of the north, across the high, central plateau, swept 
by bleak winter winds and burned by summer 
heat, to the sun-kissed cities of the southern 
shores, there is every variety of climate, of scenery, 
and of life. 

It is a country of yesterday and to-morrow, 
— yesterday, in the golden days after Columbus 
led the way for the hardy adventurers who con- 
quered new worlds for Spain, making it one of 
the richest and most powerful empires of Europe; 
to-morrow, when it shall have forgotten the loss 
of all its vast possessions, and made itself once 
more a great nation of the earth, relying for its 
wealth on its own wonderful resources of mines 
and fertile fields.” 

To Josefa, living with the gypsies in the caves 
of Granada, it is a land of sunshine and happiness. 


VI 


PREFACE 


In the morning she plays with- the children in 
the Alhambra Park, and at twihght she dons her 
red and yellow dress, clapping her castanets gaily 
as she dances to the strumming of a guitar. When 
the gypsy caravan winds its slow way across the 
plains toward Seville, she sits on the high seat of 
the rickety old wagon, eager to reach the city, 
where Zara, the fortune-teller, has promised that 
she shall find joy and sorrow. The sorrow comes 
when she loses her treasured doll while she is 
watching the Holy Week processions in the narrow 
streets of the old Moorish town; the joy, when she 
dances at the great fair, and, later, is taken into 
the family of a rich Spanish don, journeying with 
them to Cadiz, to Malaga, and to Madrid. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 


I. 

A Gypsy Queen 




I 

II. 

JosEFA Dances . 




7 

III. 

The Moon and the Morning Stars 


14 

IV. 

In the Alhambra . 




20 

V. 

A Gypsy Caravan . 




26 

VI. 

Holy Week in Seville 




33 

VII. 

An Easter Lamb 




39 

VIII. 

The Great Fair 



.. 

45 

IX. 

Beside the Fountain . 




51 

X. 

Builders of Spain . 




57 

XI. 

In the Golden Age 




65 

XII. 

“ A Saint in the House 




73 

XIII. 

Cadiz, — The Silver Dish 




80 

XIV. 

Under the Cork Oaks . 




88 

XV. 

Josefa’s Window . 




95 

XVI. 

The Cid .... 




102 

XVII. 

Happy Days in Madrid 




108 










ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

‘Daughters of Sunny Spain . . . Frontispiece in Color 


^Gypsies in Granada 

^In the Court of Lions 23 

^Holy Week in Seville 36 

'^A Comer of the Patio 53 

*A Monument to Christopher Columbus, Madrid . . 67 

^Preparing Cork for Market 91 

Malaga Grapes 100 

^Washing-Day in Spain 104 






JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


CHAPTER I 

A GYPSY QUEEN 

It must be that the Spanish sun has a great 
love for children. Especially must it love the little 
girls in Spain, with their warm olive cheeks and 
their great laughing eyes that look so much like 
luscious, purple grapes. 

When little Josef a, the gypsy’s child, stepped 
foot out of doors in the morning, all the sunshine 
seemed to gather about her and cHng to her soft, 
black hair, her velvety cheeks, and her sweet, 
rosy lips. And when she went dancing across 
the fields her tiny feet left sparkling bits of sun- 
shine wherever she stepped. 

Indeed, the other gypsy children, who lived in 
the cave-dwellings which honeycombed the side 
of the mountain, said that Josef a’s fingers scattered 
gleams of sunshine wherever she went, and^that 
her merry laugh made every day brighter and 
happier. 

As for Josef a herself, she seldom gave any thought 
to the sun and the weather. She was too busy. 


2 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


searching for the first spring blossoms among the 
mosses on the brink of the river, — the narrow, 
shallow river that wound its slow way through the 
valley at the foot of the mountain. 

When she was lucky enough to find a red rose 
blossoming on the bush that grew beside the door, 
— pop! into her dark hair it went at once, where 
it never thought of drooping or fading, but nestled 
lovingly behind her ear and brushed her soft 
neck with its petals. 

Yes, the flowers loved Josefa even as the sun 
loved her, and as the birds loved her, — the birds 
that sang among the Alhambra trees and flitted 
about among the low bushes that grew on the slope 
below the Alhambra gates. 

Thrushes and nightingales sang their sweetest 
songs when Josefa drew near to listen; and all 
the little girls would gather around her, wondering 
why they could never come so close to the mother 
birds, who sat on their nests and were not afraid 
when Josefa smoothed their soft feathers. 

The children, too, loved Josefa, and in their 
play she was always the favorite, always the leader 
of their games, the foremost in their singing and 
dancing. 

Sometimes the child liked to slip away from the 
others, to play by herself among the trees and 
flowers; but she was never long alone. Soon the 


A GYPSY QUEEN 3 

bright eyes of her playmates would find her out, 
and the fun and frolic would begin again. 

It was so on a bright spring morning, when the 
frosts had quite disappeared from the hillsides, 
and when the braseros, those little Spanish hand- 
stoves for warming fingers and toes, had been 
tucked away until another winter should call them 
once more from their hiding-places. 

At early dawn the birds had begun calling to 
each other from the tree-tops, singing their very 
hearts out with the joy of the springtime, and the 
sun was just peeping over the hills, when little 
Josef a slipped across one of the bridges that spanned 
the' Darro River, and picked her way among the 
trees toward the tiny glen which she loved to call 
her throne. 

Tightly clasped in her arms she carried a doll 
with a tiny rosebud fastened lovingly in its hair. 
The bud would have blossomed later into just such 
a beautiful flower as Josef a liked to tuck into her 
glossy curls; but she willingly sacrificed the rose 
for the sake of giving its perfumed bud to her 
treasured Enita. 

See, Enita,” she said, seating herself on a 
moss-covered stone at the foot of a young oak 
tree; “ the buds of yesterday are all opened wide 
to-day. We can make beautiful wreaths to wear 
to the court ball.” 


4 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


It was not to be expected that Josef a would 
ever, in her whole life, be so fortunate as to be in- 
vited to a court ball; but often she would play 
she was lady-in-waiting to the fair-haired Spanish 
queen who lives in Madrid, in the very heart of 
Spain. 

Sometimes she would even pretend that she 
was the gracious queen herself, who had suffered 
enchantment and woke one morning to find her 
golden locks turned to glossy black. 

Then it would be Enita who would become lady- 
in-waiting, and it was wonderful to see the deep 
curtsies which Josef a would teach to the patient 
doll, and the directions she would give her for 
managing yards and yards of troublesome train. 

To-day, Enita, you shall be the queen,’^ she 
said, placing the smiling doll upon the mossy 
throne, and arranging a wreath of flowers to cover 
the poor, ragged dress. 

You may be sure that if the real queen of Spain 
could have seen the little girl in her tawdry gypsy 
costume, as she spread the make-believe robes 
over the stone, she would have given her the most 
royally beautiful doll to be found in the whole 
country. 

But perhaps Josef a would have been no happier 
with such a treasure, for, as she bowed now to her 
beloved Enita, and moved forward and back in her 


A GYPSY QUEEN 


5 


quaint, made-up court steps and gestures, it seemed 
to her that she was really a proud dona, surrounded 
by noble lords and ladies; and that all about her 
the stately columns and towers of marble palaces 
stretched away on either side, under the arching 
trees of the valley. 

Josefa! Josefa! ” the voices of her playmates 
called suddenly from the farther end of the glade, 
and in a moment Josef a’s throne-room was in- 
vaded by hurr)dng, scurrying little gypsy girls, who 
begged her to come and dance with them. 

Maraquita, seeing the doll on its throne, caught 
it up and made it go through all sorts of motions 
while she sang: — 

“ Oh, I have a dolly, a dear little dolly, 

A dolly that’s all dressed in blue; 

’Tis this way she glances, and this way she dances, 
And this way she curtsies to you, 
and to you, 

and to you! ” 

With the last word the children swung Josefa 
into the center of the circle, beseeching her, with 
all kinds of little flattering ways, to come and dance 
with them. 

The child shook her head. I do not feel like 
dancing this morning,’’ she answered gently; 
“ but we will dress for the bull-fight, if you like.” 

Yes, yes!” shouted the noisy Margarita. 


6 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


“ The boys are even now beginning the game of 
‘ el toro/ ” 

Then you shall be the Senora Mantilla,” 
said Josef a, and she threw a red handkerchief 
over Margarita’s loose hair, copying the lace head- 
dress of the proud Spanish dames. 

You shall be the Sehorita Oak-leaf,” she added, 
turning to Maraquita, who began at once to fan 
herself with the leaf, fluttering it slowly back and 
forth in the way which only a Spanish girl knows 
best. 

To one and another Josef a quickly gave a name 
and a symbol; but in the end they crowned her 
own shining curls with a lovely garland of wild 
flowers, and, calling her their queen, they followed 
her with mincing steps and haughty heads held 
high, until they came to the sunny glade where the 
boys were playing their game of “ el toro.” 


CHAPTER II 


JOSEFA DANCES 

The long sunny day was nearly at an end when 
Josefa, tired of ‘‘ el toro,” and the court ball, and 
half a dozen other games which she had invented 
for her playmates, returned home and threw her- 
self upon the ground beside Bino’s anvil. 

Biho was a blacksmith, but for part of the time 
only. That was because he was a gypsy all of 
the time, and everyone knows that a gypsy can 
never work steadily at anything. 

Now, however, when Josefa seated herself upon 
the ground, he was busily turning a red-hot, iron 
bar with his tongs, and the fire in his forge was 
blazing merrily. 

The tongs often lay idle beside the anvil, and, 
instead of the ruddy flame, gray ashes covered the 
hearth; but to-day Bino had agreed to make some 
bolts for a stranger, and his anvil had been ringing 
for an hour. 

What is the time, Josefa? he asked, giving 
a final blow to the bolt, and turning to cool the 
hot iron in a pail of water. 


8 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


“ It is not yet the hour of sunset/^ Josefa an- 
swered, glancing toward the snow-capped peaks 
of the Sierra Nevada, which were tinged with a 
rosy glow from the red sun hanging low in the 
western sky. 

The bolts are finished in good time; but the 
man who promised to pay me a peseta for the work 
is not here. A Spaniard’s word is but a poor thing ! ” 
and Bino, grumbling, took off his leather apron 
and began to put away his tools. 

“ He will come soon enough, and if he likes not 
your bolts, he may fancy the cut of his horse’s 
mane. I have clipped it well.” It was another 
gypsy who spoke, as he came from a shed near by, 
leading a proud, high-stepping horse by the bridle. 

In a moment a crowd of boys and girls gathered 
about the animal. 

‘‘ Let me get on his back, Pedro I ” 

‘‘ Let me! Let me! ” begged one and another, 
but Pedro refused them all, and led the handsome 
creature toward the anvil, where Josefa still lay 
comfortably stretched out on the ground. 

You are the only one here who knows how to 
sit properly on such a well-clipped beast. I’ll 
be bound,” he said to her. “ Come, now, see if 
you can mount him.” 

For answer Josefa sprang lightly from the ground, 
poised an instant on the anvil, and the next moment 


JOSEFA DANCES 


9 


was seated astride the horse^s back, waving her 
hand gaily to Bino beside his forge. 

See, Tio Biho,’’ she called; now I shall 
leave you at last, as I have so many times said I 
should do. You and Tia Zara will no longer have 
a troublesome child to worry you.’’ 

At her words a dark-faced gypsy woman left 
a chattering group in the doorway, and crossed 
the patch of hard- worn ground in front of the caves 
to take Josef a’s slender hand in her own. 

‘‘ Show me your palm, cara, and I will read your 
life, as it is to be,” she said. 

The women hushed their voices, and only the 
strumming of a guitar broke the stillness as Zara 
continued, patting the little hand lovingly: 

You are my treasure, troublesome one, and 
I see many journeys before you. One will come 
soon. It will take you to a great city far, far away. 
There will be crowds of people, and long processions, 
and you will wear a yellow dress with a red scarf, 
and will dance to the sound of castanets.” 

From the open doorways, where the men and 
women lounged, rose a merry laugh, in which 
Josefa joined; but Zara continued: 

You will have a great sorrow, for you will 
lose one whom you love dearly, but joy will come 
with it, for you will find one who, in the end, will 
love you as a mother loves her child.” 


lO 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Josef a bent down to place her hand on Zara’s 
shoulder. “ How can I lose one whom I love? ” 
she asked. I love no one in the world but you 
and Uncle Bino, and surely you will not permit 
that I should lose you. 

But you are safe in promising me the yellow 
dress, for it is finished already,” she added, with 
a laugh, “ and as for the journey, it is well known 
that all the gypsies are going to Seville next month 
for the fair.” 

“ Let us see the yellow dress. Put it on and 
dance for us now,” cried a woman’s voice. 

‘‘Yes, yes, dance for us now,” begged the chil- 
dren. 

“ That is right,” said a deeper voice. “ Get 
yourself down from my horse and show me how 
you can dance; ” and, turning, Josefa saw that 
a stranger stood beside her, — a tall, dark man, 
who was plainly a rich caballero. 

He had come among them so quietly that no 
one had noticed him; but in a moment Josefa 
and her dancing were forgotten, and the bold, 
black-eyed gypsies had clustered around the stran- 
ger, begging for coins. 

“ Away with you all! ” he cried, pushing them 
to right and left. “ I will give money to no one 
but the girl on the horse, and she shall not have 
it until she dances for me, here before you all.” 


JOSEFA DANCES 


II 


Josef a sat up straight and looked at Zara to 
know what she should do; but Zara waited not 
a single moment. A gypsy never needs to be told 
twice to dance for money. 

Go and put on the yellow dress/’ she com- 
manded the child. “ Then bring your castanets and 
dance your prettiest. While the caballero waits 
he will pay Bifio for the bolts/’ and she leered 
cunningly at the stranger. 

Josef a slipped to the ground and disappeared 
through the open door, but it was not long before 
she returned, ready for her dancing. 

The yellow dress himg full from the waist, and 
was caught up here and there with knots of ribbon. 
Over her black curls she had tied a red handker- 
chief, and a red scarf was knotted about her waist. 
On her feet were dainty black slippers, and in her 
hands she held castanets which she clapped saucily. 

The Caballero looked at her with pleased eyes. 

She is very beautiful,” he said approvingly to 
Zara. You must be a good mother, — better than 
most gypsy women, who teach their children 
nothing but begging.” 

Zara gave a short laugh. Josefa would never 
learn to beg,” she said; “ but there was no trouble 
in teaching her to dance. When she was only four 
years old she was the best dancer at the fair. 
Look at her now! ” 


12 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Josef a had thrown herself into a graceful atti- 
tude, with one hand high above her head, and one 
foot pointed forward. The long line from the 
tips of her fingers to her dainty toes showed that 
she was not too tall nor yet too short, and that 
her slender figure was well built for dancing. 
But one had hardly time to think of that before 
she was in another position, bending over to sweep 
the ground in a low bow. 

From the loungers in front of the caves came the 
thrumming of a guitar and the soft clapping of 
hands, keeping time with the castanets, as the 
child moved quicker or slower, now forward and 
now back, with graceful motions and dainty steps. 

“ If I lived here in Granada, or if I were journey- 
ing to Seville with a carriage instead of a horse, I 
should like to buy the child and take her home with 
me,” said the Spaniard, when Josefa gave a gay 
click to the castanets and ran back into the cave 
like a dancing tongue of flame. 

“ We gypsies never sell our children, Senor 
Caballero,” Zara answered him briefly. 

The man saw at once that she was angry. Her 
black eyes were blazing, and she clenched her 
hands as she faced him. 

“ Pardon,” he made haste to say. ‘‘It is well 
known that gypsies will often part with that which 
they love most for money, and I thought — ” 



Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. 
Gypsies in Granada 

“ From the loungers in front of the caves came the soft clapping of hands.” Page 12 






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JOSEFA DANCES 




I care not what you thought/’ Zara inter- 
rupted. We may he, and steal, and cheat, and 
beg, and hve as beasts do, in the caves of the earth, 
so that people despise us, and call us outcasts; 
but, know this, Sehor Spaniard, we love our chil- 
dren and we will neither give them away nor sell 
them, for all your gold.” 

As she finished speaking she turned to follow 
Josef a into the house, forgetting, in her wrath, 
the money he had promised. 

The stranger called after her again, and when 
she looked back he held out a gold coin. Tell 
the child that she danced well and it pleased me,” 
he said. 

Zara took the money haughtily, mumbling some 
old Romany words under her breath. Then, as 
the man mounted his horse, the bold, black-eyed 
children clustered around him once more, shouting 
and begging for money, and more money. 

I wonder how it happens that only Josef a, 
among them all, could never be taught to beg,” 
he said to himself, and, touching spur to his horse, 
he rode swiftly down the valley and across the 
bridge toward the twinkling lights of Granada, 
leaving the gypsies and their children far behind 
him in the gathering gloom. 


CHAPTER III 


THE MOON AND THE MORNING STARS 

Enita^s eyes were blue, — as blue as the sky 
on a summer day, as blue as the forget-me-nots 
that grew beside the brook. Perhaps it was be- 
cause of her blue eyes that she always kept the 
secrets Josef a confided to her; for truly the secrets 
were many, and not one of them all did Enita 
ever tell. 

There came a morning, late in March, when 
Josef a was running down to the bridge which 
spanned the Darro River, that she met a procession 
of schoolgirls, following the black-gowned nun 
who taught them, and they called to her to join 
them and learn to read. 

Josefa, who might have gone to the school for 
gypsy children which stood not too far from Bino’s 
forge, shook her head gently. I am on my way 
to the Alhambra Park,” she answered in her Rom- 
any tongue, — the language of the gypsies, or 
Zingari, as they are called in Spain. 

The children laughed, and passed out of sight 
beyond the convent walls, while Josefa pattered 


THE MOON AND THE MORNING STARS 1 5 

across the bridge in her bare feet, whispering to 
Enita that the little Spanish girls were far prettier 
and cleaner than the gypsies, and that she would 
have Hked to play with them; but to go to school 
with them was quite another matter. 

Was not the morning the very brightest and 
softest the spring had yet seen? And were not 
the birds singing, and saying as plainly as they 
could, “ Come, Josefa, cornel The trees on the 
Alhambra hill are the loveliest in the whole world. 
Hurry your feet! Hurry your feet! 

But, hurry as fast as she would, it took Josefa 
nearly an hour to find her way from the base of 
the mountain where the gypsies live in their dark 
caves, across the narrow valley of the Darro and 
up the steep hill to the beautiful Alhambra Park, 
where she was glad to throw herself upon the 
ground beneath the arching elms. 

All overhead the young leaves were opening in 
a cloud of soft green mist, and the thrushes were 
fluttering among the branches, practising their 
sweetest songs. 

We will lie here all day long,” Josefa told 
Enita, with a lazy yawn. It may be that when the 
little Spanish girls leave their school in the convent 
they will come through the park on their way home 
and stop to play a game with us.” 

But it happened, in a very few minutes, that 


1 6 JOSEFA IN SPAIN 

two English ladies, who had also decided to visit 
the Alhambra that day, strolled through the great 
gate and stopped to look up at the ruined towers. 
Following them was a rabble of gypsy children, 
begging, as usual, and insisting that the ladies 
give them money. 

“A centimo! ” they cried, in their shrill young 
voices; a centimo to buy sweets! ” 

‘‘Five centimes to buy a fan! ” urged a girl of 
ten, catching one of the ladies by the skirt to at- 
tract her attention. 

“ A fan! ” shrieked a boy, in derision. “ Five 
centimes to buy cigarritos! I beg of you, Sehora! 
Five centimes, and I will drive all these others 
away.” 

The ladies shook their heads. “ We have no 
money for you,” they said. 

“ Look at me, Senorita,” urged a girl with a mop 
of coarse black hair. “ Give me a peseta and I 
will dance for you.” 

“ And I, Senorita, I will sing for you for just 
one tiny perro chico,” pleaded a slip of a child, 
holding out her grimy little hand. 

“ No, no, no! We have come to see the Alham- 
bra. We do not care for your singing and dancing,” 
declared the strangers, and they opened their 
guide-books and tried to talk with each other 
about the ruined walls and towers. 


THE MOON AND THE MORNING STARS 1 7 

All this time Josef a had been looking on idly. 
Now, seeing that the ladies did not know how to 
rid themselves of the little beggars, she tucked 
Enita inside her blouse and went to their assist- 
ance. 

Come and play with me,’’ she said to the 
children, in her Romany tongue. We will play 
a game. You shall be the morning stars, and I 
will be the moon. I will stand here in the shadow 
and try to catch you.” 

The children, who had apparently come to the 
conclusion that they would receive no money for 
all their begging, turned to play with Josef a, and 
the two ladies, finding themselves so suddenly de- 
serted by their tormentors, looked at each other in 
surprise. 

‘‘That is a remarkable child!” exclaimed the 
elder lady, with a laugh. “ What do you suppose 
she said to those little gypsies to make them for- 
get their begging? ” 

“ She wanted them to play a game, I think,” 
replied the other. “ She must be a gypsy, too, 
for she seemed to speak their language; but she 
is neat and clean, and she does not seem to care 
for begging. Let us sit here on this knoll and 
watch her for a little while.” 

Josefa, playing the part of the moon, took her 
stand in the deep shadow cast by the ruined wall, 


i8 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


and the children danced in and out of the sunshine, 
singing merrily: — 

“ Oh, the moon and the morning stars! 

Little twinkling stars, 

Lightly dance, 

Quickly glance, 

But shim the shadow-bars! ” 

As they sang their roundelay, they poked their 
bare toes saucily over the hne, making little darts 
and dashes into the land of shade. 

Suddenly one little twinkling star dared too 
much, for she put both feet within the shadow, 
and Josef a, quick as a flash, gave a spring and 
caught her. 

Then the star became the moon, and the moon 
a star, — a gay little star that seemed to be every- 
where at once, flashing in and out among the trees 
like a firefly that gleams in the meadows. 

“ That child is no gypsy! said the elder of the 
two ladies. I am going to give the others some 
money and send them away; but I shall try to 
keep her with us. She looks as if she might be 
rather amusing.” 

She tossed a few coins into the land of morning 
stars, bidding the children run down to the city 
to buy sweets. Then she called Josef a to her side 
and asked her if she would not go with them 


THE MOON AND THE MORNING STARS IQ 

through the ruined castle of the ancient Moorish 
kings. 

It will be a great pleasure to go with you, 
Senorita,’’ Josefa replied, speaking Spanish with 
these strangers as easily as she had chattered in 
Romany with her gypsy playmates. 

To tell the truth, Josefa cared nothing about 
the Moors and their castle, but now that the chil- 
dren were gone it would be amusing enough to 
wander through the deserted halls and courts, 
listening idly to the strange foreign words of her 
companions, and answering the questions they 
put to her now and then in their faltering Spanish. 


CHAPTER IV 


IN THE ALHAMBRA 

“ I HAVE dreamed of seeing the Alhambra ever 
since the day we first set foot in Spain, Aunt Eliza- 
beth,” said the younger of the two women, the 
one with the smiling blue eyes. They were stand- 
ing, as she spoke, in one of the arched windows 
of the royal palace, looking down at the city of 
Granada which lay in the valley at their feet, 
and then turning their eyes toward the distant 
snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada, or Snowy 
Mountains. 

It is like living a dream to wander through 
these rooms and think of the stories and traditions, 
the songs and ballads that have been written 
about the bravery and romance of the Moors,” 
replied her aunt. 

“ Think of the splendor of their court, and the 
beauty of their queens and ladies. It almost 
makes me believe in fairy stories, just to look at 
these fountains and gardens. When we go back 
to the hotel we must read Washington Irving’s 
* Alhambra ’ again.” 


IN THE ALHAMBRA 


21 


Josefa looked up at the word Alhambra.’’ 
“ The Alhambra,” she repeated. Why is it 
called the Alhambra? I have asked Bino and Tia 
Zara often and often; but they only shake their 
heads and say something about the Moors.” 

The fair-haired lady took Josef a’s hand in hers 
and looked down into the lustrous dark eyes. 

You must know,” she said, in her slow Spanish, 
“ that long, long ago the Moors, who Hved across 
the Mediterranean Sea in northern Africa, came 
over here and fought terrible battles with the 
Spaniards, conquering almost the whole of Spain. 

Then, for seven hundred years, they lived here. 
They built splendid cities, and wonderful mosques 
and castles. Granada was their capital, and the 
Moorish kings lived here in this magnificent palace. 
There was a fortress here, too, large enough for 
forty thousand warriors, and it was all surrounded 
by a great wall, with thirteen towers where the 
guards could watch for the approach of the enemy. 

Some say it was called ‘ Alhambra ’ because 
that is the Arabic word for red, and the Moors, 
who spoke Arabic, built the outer walls of red, 
sun-dried bricks. Others think it comes from the 
name of its founder, A1 Ahmar.” 

I like to think,” spoke up her aunt, “ that 
it was called Alhambra from the red flare of the 
torches that burned for many years so that the 


22 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


builders could work all night on these wonderful 
mosaics and carvings.” 

Did the Moorish queens live here in the Al- 
hambra, too? ” questioned Josefa, thinking that 
this might be a new game for her to play with 
Enita. 

‘‘Yes,” was the answer. “ The Moorish queens 
were called sultanas. They were very beautiful 
women, and they wore silks and jewels, and had 
ladies-in-waiting who were as lovely as the dawn. 

“ It is four himdred years since they wandered 
through these courts and gardens, and saw their 
charms reflected by the waters of these fountains; 
but we cannot forget them even though their 
palace is now desolate and lonely.” 

“ Did the queens love the Virgin Mary and pray 
to her? ” asked the child. 

“ No, and that was what made all the trouble. 
The Spaniards were Christians, but the Moors 
were followers of Mohammed. Each one despised 
the religion of the other, each was determined to 
rule the country, and there was never any peace 
between them.” 

“It is better to pray to the Virgin Mary, is it 
not? ” Josefa asked shyly. 

Both ladies looked at her in surprise. “ That 
is a strange question for a little Spanish girl to 
ask,” one of them said. “ Do you not pray to the 



Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. 

In the Court of Lions 

A fountain in the Palace of the Alhambra. Page 23 



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IN THE ALHAMBRA 23 

Virgin every morning when the bells ring in the 
tower of the cathedral? ” 

“ No/^ and Josefa shook her head. Tia Zara 
is a gypsy and has never taught me to pray; but 
sometimes I think I should like to pray to the Virgin 
because she is so sweet and lovely.” 

The ladies looked pityingly at each other. You 
poor child,” they said, we will teach you a 
prayer which you can say before the shrines in the 
streets of Granada.” 

But Josefa suddenly flushed a rosy red, and 
went dancing over the mosaic floors, in and out 
of the columned arches, until she came to the 
Court of Lions, where the waters of the fountain 
splashed musically in the great stone basin. 

How was she to confess that she had taught 
Enita a little prayer she made up herself, without 
help from anyone, and that often, in her play, 
she stopped before the street shrines with the 
other Spanish children to ask a blessing? 

In a little while the two ladies came to join her, 
and sat down on a sun-warmed, marble bench be- 
side the fountain to open their lunch-baskets. 

Josefa drew a crust of bread and some dates from 
her pocket and, with all the grace of a great lady 
of Spain, said courteously: “ All that I have is 
yours.” 

And all that we have is yours,” they told 


24 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


her, with a smile; but Josef a, with a graceful bow 
and a murmured, Many thanks, Senoras,” ate 
her dry bread and dates, and then held her hand 
under the dripping fountain for a drink of the cool 
water. 

“You must thank the Moors for that refreshing 
drink, said one of the ladies. “ It was they who 
first thought of bringing water from the rivers 
to feed their fountains and gardens. 

“ It is hot and dry here in southern Spain, but 
the Moors found a way of leading the water down 
from the snow-clad* peaks of the mountains and 
spreading it over the fields imtil the deserts blos- 
somed like the rose.’^ 

“ They must have been sorry to leave all this 
beauty and luxury when they were finally driven 
out of the country by Ferdinand and Isabella,” 
said the other. 

“ Who were Ferdinand and Isabella? ” questioned 
Josefa. 

“ They were the king and queen who conquered 
the Moors and united all the Spanish provinces 
into one country,” was the answer; “ and it was 
they who gave Christopher Columbus ships and 
money to sail across the Atlantic Ocean to dis- 
cover America.” 

Josefa looked puzzled. “ America, — and what 
is America? ” she asked again. 


IN THE ALHAMBRA 


25 


The ladies laughed. ‘‘You are a dear little 
know-nothing/’ they told her, as they gathered 
up their lunch-baskets and prepared to return 
to the hotel for their afternoon siesta. 

Josefa drew her doll from her blouse, and fast- 
ened the rosebud more securely in the flaxen 
hair. 

“ We do not need to know very much, Enita 
and I,” she said with a merry smile. “ When the 
sun shines and the thrushes are singing in the trees 
we are always happy; and then, at night, there 
are the moon and the stars to give us light, and the 
nightingales to fill the air with music. 

“We know where to find flowers to make wreaths 
for our hair. We know where the water in the 
fountains is coolest and freshest, and we know how 
to dance and sing and play games with the chil- 
dren. Why should anyone wish to know more? ” 

“ It is, indeed, sweet to know nothing,” the 
ladies told each other with a laugh, and would have 
given Josefa a peseta to buy a ribbon for her doll; 
but she blew them a kiss from the tips of her fingers 
and went skipping away under the trees, whisper- 
ing to Enita that the next time they came to the 
Alhambra Park she should be a Moorish queen 
with a silken gown and jewels in her hair. 


CHAPTER V 


A GYPSY CARAVAN 

When Josef a slipped out of bed the next morning 
she was thinking happily of the new game she 
would play with Enita in the Moorish palace; 
but it was many a long day before she climbed 
the hill to the Alhambra Park again, and sat once 
more in the Court of Lions to watch the waters 
of the fountain sparkling in the sunlight. 

As she pattered across the hard earth floor to 
open the door of the cave, she saw Zara bending 
over a chest to pack the gay red and yellow dress, 
and when she stepped out into the sunshine the 
whole settlement was in the greatest confusion. 

We start for Seville in an hour,” Bino told 
her, as he harnessed his mules into the old covered 
wagon. “It is only three weeks to the great 
fair. We shall have little enough time for the 
journey, with the rough roads and our slow-going 
caravan.” 

Josef a hastened at once to help Zara with the 
packing, running back and forth from the cave 
to the wagon with kettles and pans, jars, ropes. 


A GYPSY CARAVAN 


27 


bundles of clothing, a guitar and a tambourine, 
sheepskins for their bed, and an old wooden chair. 

Last, but by no means least, came the box that 
held the precious dress, which she would wear while 
she danced at the Feria amidst a shower of coins 
thrown to her by an admiring crowd. 

Noise and excitement filled the whole village. 
Men were laughing and shouting, women were 
screaming and scolding, and the whole rabble of 
children were running wildly in and out under 
the very feet of the horses. 

There was so much to be done that it was noon 
before the whips finally cracked over the heads 
of the leaders, and the caravan began its long 
journey to Seville, almost two hundred miles away. 

The strange procession wound its way slowly 
across the plain of Granada, the wagons creaking 
and groaning as they jolted over the rough roads, 
while the horses and mules strained and tugged 
to pull the wheels out of the deep ruts. 

The men wore peaked hats and spangled jackets, 
with crimson sashes wound about their waists. 
The women had short skirts and gay red and yellow 
bodices, with bright handkerchiefs tied over their 
black hair; and the silver hoops in their ears 
swung back and forth with the swaying of the 
carts. 

The children were tucked into the back of the 


28 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


wagons with the water jars and sheepskins, and 
they laughed and chattered merrily until the heat 
of the sun made them drowsy and they were glad 
to curl up for a nap. 

By day the caravan was a string of motley, 
covered wagons and two-wheeled carts, with now 
and then a Httle pack-donkey jingling his bells 
as he toiled wearily along. 

By night it was a little cluster of gleaming camp- 
fires and tethered creatures, encircled by the rickety 
carts, where the women cooked, and the men 
smoked, while the children played games or listened 
to Josefa^s stories. 

I have been to Seville many times,’’ she told 
them. Ever since I was a little child I have 
ridden over the road with Bino and Zara, and some- 
times we arrive in time for the Holy Week pro- 
cessions, which are the most wonderful sight in 
the whole world.” 

Tell us about them again,” the children would 
beg, and Josef a would repeat her tales of the city, 
with the crowds of men and women, the lights 
and flowers, the bands of music, and the sacred 
figures, dressed in silks and velvets and covered 
with gold and precious gems, which were borne 
through the streets for the people to admire and 
reverence. 

Sometimes she would tell stories of the other 


A GYPSY CARAVAN 


29 


Spanish cities she had visited, for Bino and Zara 
often spent the whole summer travelling from 
one town to another in their old covered wagon. 

The gypsies, as everyone knows, love to live 
out of doors, and wander about over the country 
as they please. They are unhke any other people 
on the globe; and, wherever they live, — in Spain, 
Russia, Persia, or America, — they have the same 
looks, the same customs, and they speak a dialect 
of the same Romany language. 

Every band has its leader, every tribe its king. 
The men buy and sell horses, and are tinkers or 
blacksmiths; the women make baskets and tell 
fortunes. 

In Spain there are more than forty thousand 
of these gypsies. Although they live in settle- 
ments near the large cities, they wander about 
wherever their fancy leads them. In April, when 
hundreds of them journey to Seville to take part 
in the great fair, their curious caravans make a 
picturesque sight along the way. 

Now that I am twelve years old,^^ Josef a said 
to Zara one morning, as the wagons jolted across 
a long, sweeping plain, where for miles and miles 
not a house nor a tree could be seen, — “ now that 
I am twelve years old I think perhaps I ought to 
go to school a little. I find there are many things 
in the world which I do not know.” 


30 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Zara looked at the child with her glittering eyes. 
“ What is it that you do not know? she questioned 
sharply. 

Josefa did not answer at once. A train of mules 
was clinking and clattering toward them, along 
the road, the bells of the leaders jingling merrily. 

Some of the animals were decorated with cords 
and tassels of red and yellow; their manes were 
cut in scallops and tied with bunches of red worsted, 
and the hair on their flanks was clipped in many 
curious designs, with scrolls and flowers, or even 
a name or two. 

Pedro, back among the gypsy caves at home, 
could cut many wonderful designs, but not a 
name could he fashion; he, too, had never been 
to school, and he did not know how to make the 
letters for a name. 

The mules were laden with great jars, hung one 
on either side of the saddle. Some of the jars held 
water for the journey; but most of them were 
filled with wine or olive oil to be sold in the city 
markets. 

Come,^’ repeated Zara, as the last of the train 
passed by, and gay snatches of the muleteers’ 
songs came floating back to them through the 
still air, tell me what it is that you wish to know.” 

I should like to know how to read books,” 
Josefa said, hesitating at first, and then speaking 


A GYPSY CARAVAN 3 1 

faster and faster as her thoughts came more readily. 

I should Hke to read about the other countries, 
and about the people who come here to see our 
cities. I should like to know why they come, and 
what they talk about when they look at our cathe- 
drals and our ruined palaces. 

I should hke to know about Spain, too, and 
about \he Moors, and about Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella, — 

Zara interrupted her with a harsh laugh. If 
you wish to know about Spain, she said, “ look 
about you. There is a pig-herder on the plain 
with his swine, and up among the mountains are 
the shepherds with their flocks of brown sheep 
and their dogs to guard them. 

“ Soon we shall pass gray olive groves, and 
great vineyards where they raise grapes for raisins 
and wine. You will see orange trees and fruit 
orchards, countless httle gray donkeys, and endless 
flocks of goats. 

In the cities you will find rich people who live 
in palaces and ride in carriages, and at their heels 
will run beggars asking for a centimo to buy bread. 
That is Spain. You do not need to read about it 
in books.’’ 

“ I want to know about the other countries, 
too,” Josef a urged; but Zara had lain down among 
the sheepskins and closed her eyes for a siesta. 


32 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


and after a little while Josefa clambered up to sit 
on the seat beside Biho. 

‘‘It is a rough road,’’ she said, quite as if it 
were an unusual thing in Spain, which is so moun- 
tainous everywhere, except in the central plateau, 
that there are few roads of any other sort. 

Biho cracked his whip and the mules quickened 
their slow walk. “ There is never a road so smooth 
that it has no rough places,” he answered cheerfully. 
“ In another day we shall reach Seville, and you 
will forget the rough roads and the long journey, 
if we are in time to see the crowds on Palm Sim- 
day.” 


CHAPTER VI 


HOLY WEEK IN SEVILLE 

Spain is a Catholic country, and in all its cities 
and towns the feasts and fasts of the Church are 
faithfully observed. 

Especially is this true of Holy Week, which 
begins with Palm Sunday and ends with Easter; 
and nowhere in the whole country is the celebra- 
tion of these days so wonderful as in Seville, the 
happiest, sunniest city in all the golden province 
of Andalusia. 

Early on Palm Sunday morning long fronds of 
palm, and olive branches with their little gray 
leaves, are blessed by the archbishop in the cathe- 
dral, which is filled with kneeling men and women. 
Later these sacred palms and sprays of olive are 
taken home to be carefully preserved during the 
coming year. 

There is also a procession in the afternoon; 
but on Holy Thursday and Good Friday the cele- 
bration is far more wonderful, and throngs of 
people crowd the streets to see the religious brother- 
hoods pass by, bearing statues of the saints and 


34 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


the Blessed Virgin, on litters decorated with 
flowers and all ablaze with lighted candles. 

On Saturday the Paschal Candle, which is 
to burn for forty days, and which is twenty-five 
feet tall and weighs about eight hundred pounds, is 
blessed and lighted. The black veil before the 
altar is torn asunder amid organ peals of thunder, 
and all the bells of the city, which have been silent 
for three days, begin to ring. 

Then, on Easter Sunday, the whole world wakes 
up rejoicing, and after mass comes the bull-fight 
in the Plaza de Toros, where there is room for 
fourteen thousand spectators, and where the most 
popifiar of all the famous matadors fight before 
the eager, excited multitude. 

The gypsies care nothing for Holy Week. They 
come to Seville for the Feria which is held in the 
middle of April, but, if they arrive in time for the 
processions, they are glad to mingle with the crowds 
in the streets, and it is even hinted that some of 
them know what becomes of the watches and 
purses of gold which seem to disappear by magic. 

When Bino drove his pair of mules over the 
bridge that spanned the yellow waters of the Gua- 
dalquivir, and led the caravan toward the gypsy 
village on the bank of the river, it was late evening 
on Wednesday of Holy Week. 

At daybreak the next morning Josefa set off 
/ 


HOLY WEEK IN SEVILLE 


35 


for the city with Zara, who was as much at home 
in Seville as in Granada, and who knew many 
houses where the ladies would cross her palm with 
gold, eager to hear the tales of coming good fortune 
which she would pour into their willing ears. 

But, early as it was, the streets and squares 
were already filled with people; and, because 
it was Holy Thursday, everyone was on foot. 
During the three days when the bells are silent, 
not a wheel is allowed to turn in the whole city, 
and young and old, rich and poor, must walk 
wherever they wish to go. 

It took Zara a long time to thread her way in 
and out among the crowds in the narrow streets; 
but toward noon she finally reached the great 
square where the grand stand is erected so that 
at least a part of the himdred thousand strangers 
may have comfortable seats while they watch 
the people and the processions. 

Josef a, who was so tired that she could hardly 
put one foot before the other, crouched down to 
rest on some steps in an out-of-the-way corner, 
while Zara went on to earn more money; and it 
was here that the sorrow befell her which the 
gypsy had foretold. She might have caught a 
glimpse of the joy, too; but tears were blinding 
her eyes, and her heart was so heavy that she had 
no thought for happiness. 


36 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


It was hot and sunny in the square, and in barely 
five minutes Josef a was sound asleep, her head 
pillowed on her arm, her ears deaf to the voices 
and music in the streets. 

She had slept two hours, possibly three, when 
she was suddenly wakened by the blare of trumpets 
and the beat of drums. The procession was coming 
at last, and the people began pushing and crowding, 
this way and that, to make room for the police, 
and the company of soldiers with plumes and 
glittering helmets, who were already passing be- 
fore the grand stand. 

Josef a jumped up, rubbing her eyes and trying 
to believe that she was not still asleep and dreaming 
of the angels. 

“ Look, Enita,” she whispered, drawing the 
doll from her pocket and holding it up on a level 
with her shoulder, it is the Blessed Virgin. 
She has a crown of diamonds, and the lace of her 
dress is sewn with pearls and sapphires. Bow 
your head when she passes, my Enita, and say 
your prayer that she may answer it.” 

Nearer and nearer drew the litter on which 
rested the wonderful statue of the Virgin. She 
was, indeed, crowned with sparkling diamonds, 
and the priceless jewels on her robe reflected the 
light from the rows on rows of candles with which 
she was surrounded. 



Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. 

Holy Week in Seville 

“ The procession was coming at last.” Page 36 







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HOLY WEEK IN SEVILLE 


37 


Her wrists were laden with bracelets, long strings 
of pearls were wound round her neck, and on her 
wooden cheeks two lustrous pearls, like tears, pro- 
claimed her to be Our Lady of Great Sorrows.” 

Following her came “ Our Lady of Victory,” 
and Our Lady of Mercy.” Then came scenes 
from the life of Christ, escorted by hundreds and 
hundreds of men in costly robes of black and gold, 
of white and gold, of white and violet, of rich, 
purple velvet, and of somber black. 

Clouds of incense filled the air; the cries of 
the street-venders and water-sellers were drowned 
in the martial music of the bands. 

Sometimes Josefa stood up, holding Enita above 
her head so that she, too, might see the wondrous 
sights; sometimes she crouched wearily on the 
steps with her doll in her lap, her eyes tired with 
the long hours of watching, her head swimming 
with all the noise and confusion. 

At last there came a great blare of trumpets, 
and the crowd surged back from the road as Our 
Lady of Hope ” appeared in view, a great diamond 
star blazing on her forehead. 

Josefa jumped up, forgetting the doll which 
lay in her lap, and in a twinkling Enita had been 
snatched away by a black-eyed imp of a boy, who 
slipped round the corner and disappeared before 
Josefa could realize what was happening. 


38 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


In an instant she had bounded down from her 
step to give chase; but the great mass of people 
in the square suddenly moved forward, carrying 
her along in spite of her efforts to be free, until 
she was pressed against a wall beneath a crowded 
balcony. 

‘‘ Look, Dolores,^’ she heard a man’s voice say- 
ing, “ there is the very gypsy girl who danced for 
me in Granada. Her father and mother have no 
doubt brought her here to dance at the fair. I 
will call to her and give her some of these sweets. 
Then you shall see how pretty she is.” 

But Josefa’s heart was heavy with grief. Two 
great tears hung on her soft cheeks, even as the 
pearls had hung on the wooden cheeks of Our 
Lady of Sorrow.” 

She could think of nothing but Enita whom 
she had lost; Enita, to whom she told all her 
secrets; Enita, whom she loved so dearly. How 
could she ever dance again? What did she care 
for sweets and flattering tongues? 

Without even a glance at the smiling faces in 
the balcony, she pushed through the crowd and 
hurried away to the gypsy village, to hide in a 
comer of the old wagon and cry her eyes out with 
grief over the loss of her treasured doll. 


CHAPTER VII 


AN EASTER LAMB 

It was Easter Monday and the streets of Seville, 
in which not a wheel had turned during the last 
three days of Holy Week, were now thronged with 
vehicles of every description. Horses, donkeys, 
mules, and oxen, fresh from their unaccustomed 
holidays, were once more patiently dragging heav- 
ily loaded carts over the rough cobble-stones. 

The harnesses were gay with red ribbons and 
tassels, and the little bells added a jingling chorus 
to the noisy laughter of men, the chatter of 
women, and the shouts of children at their play. 

Olive-cheeked girls leaned from overhanging 
balconies, or stood in groups at the street corners 
to gossip with their friends. Black mantillas had 
given place to red carnations or yellow roses that 
matched the fans which their owners fluttered 
coquettishly before their eyes. 

The white walls of the houses were dazzling 
in the sunlight; and the orange trees, washed by 
an early morning shower, were clean and sparkling, 
— their waxen blossoms filling the air with fra- 


40 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


grance, their ripe fruit shining like gold among 
the glossy green leaves. 

The sky was blue as only a Spanish sky can 
be, and in out-of-the-way comers of the squares 
and parks men and boys were stretched comfortably 
on the ground, taking the sun.” 

Zara, with Josef a by her side, was once more 
wending her way toward the homes of the rich 
Sevillians, where she hoped to sell the string of 
baskets which she carried on her arm; but the 
child took little interest in the happiness around 
her. Her cheeks were pale, and her black eyes, 
dull now from much weeping, gazed sorrowfully 
from one child’s face to another, still searching 
for the young thief who had stolen her doll. 

As they passed the great cathedral, which is 
one of the largest and richest in the world, Josefa 
stopped for a moment to look at some boys who 
were playing on the steps. 

‘‘ If I were a little Spanish girl,” she said, “ I 
would go in and say a prayer to the Virgin. 
She would know how much I want to find Enita.” 

Zara looked at her sharply. If you were a 
little Spanish girl! ” she repeated angrily. Never 
let me hear you say that again. If you were a little 
Spanish girl you would be working in the cigar 
factory now, with seven or eight thousand other 
Spanish girls.” 


AN EASTER LAMB 


41 


“ I have heard that it is the largest cigar factory 
in the world/’ murmured Josef a, raising her eyes 
timidly to the swarthy-faced woman by her side. 

And how do you think you would like that, — 
to be shut up in a great brick building, where the 
air is hot and stifling, and where you would sit 
all day at a bench rolling cigarettes? Little you 
would care then that it is the largest cigar factory 
in the world! ” and with a scornful toss of her head 
Zara hurried the child toward the market, where 
a shepherd with a flock of sheep was selling lambs 
for Easter pets. 

Among the herd were beautiful merinos with 
fine, silvery fleeces, and smaller brown sheep with 
saucy black faces. Tethered in a corner by itself, 
safe from trampling feet, was a tiny, puny-looking 
lambkin, hardly able to stand. It dropped to 
the ground at last, where it lay patiently awaiting 
its fate. 

Josef a’s sympathetic eye caught sight of it 
at once, and when she put out her hand it nestled 
its nose in her palm so lovingly that she smiled 
and stooped to pat its soft brown wool. 

Just then a man rode up on a splendid white 
horse and stopped to bargain for a lamb to be sent 
home to his little daughter. 

Zara plucked Josef a’s sleeve. Look,” she 
whispered eagerly, “ it is the Caballero who saw you 


42 


JOSEFA m SPAIN 


dance in Granada. Speak to him now. He may 
toss you a peseta, if you smile and kiss your hand to 
him.’^ 

Josefa shook her head. Do not ask me to beg,’^ 
she pleaded. “ I will dance for you all day at 
the fair, but I cannot beg, Tia Zara.^’ 

The Spaniard heard her words and looked down 
at her from his seat on the horse. It is my friend 
the dancer,” he exclaimed, and she has not yet 
learned to beg. What are you doing here, my 
child, — buying a pet lamb for Easter? ” 

We have no money to waste on lambs,” Zara 
made haste to answer. We came to Seville 
for the fair, and while we are waiting we are 
selling these baskets which we made with our own 
hands. Buy this one for your lady, Senor,” and 
she held up a dainty, covered basket woven with 
an intricate pattern. 

I am buying lambs to-day,” the man said with 
a laugh. Just now I bought a white one for 
my Chiquita. Come, little dancer, I will buy one 
for you. Choose quickly which it shall be,” 
and he put his hand in his pocket to take out his 
purse. 

Josefa’s eyes wandered back and forth over the 
flock of sheep, but always they turned pityingly 
to the lambkin crouched in the corner; and, as 
if the poor thing felt her pity, he opened his eyes 


AN EASTER LAMB 


43 


at last and gave a feeble bleat. He even struggled 
slowly to his feet and took a step in her direction. 

That is the one I will choose, if you please, 
Senor,’’ Josefa decided. 

But it is so tiny, and it looks sick, too. Do 
you want a little weak-legs like that? ” questioned 
the stranger. 

“Yes, yesP’ Josefa replied, and, stooping, she 
gathered the lamb tenderly in her arms. “ See, 
it loves me already, and when I have fed it with 
bread and milk for a week it will be as strong as 
the best of them. 

“ I shall call it Chico because it is so little; but 
soon it will be too big for its name. We kiss your 
hand, Sehor,’’ and she laughed as she made the 
lambkin bow its funny black head to the man on 
the horse. 

“ Your Chico will take the place of Enita,” 
Zara told her, after the stranger had paid for the 
lamb and ridden away; but once more Josefa 
shook her head. 

“ Nothing will ever take the place of Enita,’’ 
she said, looking straight into Zara’s eyes. “ All 
my life I have wished that I had a little sister, and 
we used to pray for one, Enita and I, when we 
passed the shrines in the streets of Granada; 
but not even a little sister could take Enita’s place. 

“ She was my dearest treasure, and I told her 


44 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


all my secrets. I used to think she knew more 
than I knew myself, and sometimes I would beg 
her to open her lips and tell me about my 
mother, — ” 

Zara caught the child roughly by the shoulder. 
“ That is enough,” she said. Run home now, and 
ask Bino to get some milk for your lamb. I am 
going farther to sell my baskets. In another week 
the fair will open, and then there will be no time 
for such nonsense.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE GREAT FAIR 

JosEFA wound a crimson scarf around her shoul- 
ders so that the long knotted fringe hung over her 
arms. Then she tucked a crimson rose in her hair, 
and stooped to admire the effect in a bit of broken 
glass laid on a black cloth. 

She had been humming a little tune while she 
moved to and fro in the tent, putting on the best 
of her cheap finery, and a happy smile came into 
her eyes as she glanced now through the open 
doorway and saw Chico, fat and chubby, standing 
firmly on his four legs and bleating lustily for his 
supper. 

‘‘ Thou art a little glutton,’’ she told him, run- 
ning out with a big bowl of milk. See that thou 
grow not too fat or Bino will talk of selling thee 
in the market.” 

Josef a put her arms about the lamb’s neck as 
she spoke, and snuggled her warm cheek against 
the soft wool. 

Thou art my own lambkin, and no one shall 
sell thee, my Chico,” she said, kissing the funny 


46 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


black face. Then she jumped up with a quick, 
graceful movement of her lithe young body, and 
ran out into the broad highway which leads through 
the center of the Prado San Sebastian, where the 
great fair is held. 

It was the last of the three days of the Feria, 
which is held every year in the middle of April, 
and the red sun, hanging low in the western sky, 
gave warning that evening was at hand, — evening 
which is the brightest, gayest, happiest time in 
all the long, happy day. 

This Feria is not so much an annual fair as it 
is an outing for young and old, rich and poor, 
who leave their homes in Seville and camp for three 
days on the great prado just outside the city. 

Thousands of cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, donkeys, 
and horses, are bought and sold at this fair, and 
there are tents and booths for the sale of dolls, 
sweets, fans, castanets, knives, — whatever a 
Spaniard or a tourist will buy; but the main 
business of the three days^ outing is talking and 
laughing, feasting and dancing, from early morning 
until late at night. 

When Josef a ran out into the road, four lines 
of carriages were moving slowly up and down the 
broad highway, and the walks on either side were 
thronged with merry, chattering crowds. 

Have a care, thou! shouted an officer in a 


THE GREAT FAIR 


47 


gorgeous uniform, jerking his prancing steed up 
on its hind feet as Josef a slipped across the road, 
under the very nose of the restless horse. 

There was a quick, backward turn of the dark 
head, a pair of smiling eyes, a sweet, I kiss your 
hand, Sehor,’’ and the little girl had dodged around 
a corner and was out of sight. 

Wilt thou have a cake, Josefa? called a 
gypsy woman who stood beside a kettle of olive 
oil, frying pastry which gave out a most delicious 
odor. 

‘‘No, thanks 1 replied the child, and slipped on 
her way, past the booths where late-comers were 
displaying their wares. 

“Water! Fresh water! Water cooler than 
snow! came the cry of the water-sellers, who 
carried their yellow jars poised easily on their 
shoulders. 

“ Buy confetti ! Buy confetti ! ’’ shouted a street- 
vender, shaking his little bags of colored paper. 
“Showers of a million colors! Five centimes! 
Who’ll buy? ” 

But Josefa paid no heed to them all. She hung 
poised for a moment over a shelf of trinkets which 
caught the light from the setting sun and sparkled 
like diamonds in their cheap boxes. Then onward 
she went, through one narrow side-street after 
another, until she came to a shop where a shoe- 


48 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


maker had set his bench and was mending a little 
shoe, singing to himself as he pulled his waxed 
thread in and out : — 

“ To the jasper gate of heaven, 

His bench the cobbler brings; 

Making shoes for the little angels, 

Who have nothing to wear but wings.” 


Josef a watched the strong, swift hands draw 
the stitches firmly in the tiny shoe. She looked 
at the worn, wrinkled face, and the kindly, smiling 
eyes. Surely, here was one who loved children. 

I have a httle lamb,^^ she said suddenly, in a 
low tone. 

“ Yes? and the cobbler’s voice was as gentle 
as her own. 

“ I had a doll once, but some one stole her away.” 
Josef a’s words came slowly and there was a quiver 
in them. Her name was Enita and I loved her 
dearly.” 

The cobbler looked up from his work. “ Did 
you not pray to the Virgin to send your doll back 
to you? ” he asked. 

No,” and the child’s breath came quickly. 
“ I am a gypsy, and we are not taught to pray.” 

“ That makes no difference,” the cobbler 
told her. ‘‘ The prayers of good children are al- 
ways answered. Here is a perro chico. Go to one 


THE GREAT FAIR 


49 


of the booths and buy a doll. Then, when you 
are in the great cathedral, hang it upon the arm 
of the Virgin and pray her humbly to send your 
Enita back to you. I have no doubt she will 
hear you.’’ 

A thousand thanks!” and with shining eyes 
Josef a was speeding on her way, in search of a 
doll so cheap that it could be bought for a perro 
chico. 

Every moment the crowd was growing greater. 
It seemed as if the whole world had come out to 
see the end of the fair. There were Spaniards, 
and gypsies, and tourists from many lands, all 
intent upon seeing the sights and having an eve- 
ning’s amusement. 

Josef a pushed her way through one street after 
another. Now she brushed against a woman 
carrying a great tray of cocoanuts, now she met 
a girl with a heaped-up basket of flowers. There 
were bread-boys, and peanut-venders, and men 
with figs, dates, pomegranates, and luscious, golden 
oranges. 

It was at a booth near the gypsy tents that 
Josefa finally spent the money which the cobbler 
had given her. On a stand under a huge red um- 
brella were dolls of all sizes and prices, — wax 
dolls with real hair, and funny wooden dolls 
dressed like candy-men and bull-fighters. 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


SO 


In a far corner was a tray of tiny dolls, — so 
very tiny that two could be bought for a perro 
chico, and it was with a beating heart that 
Josef a gave up her precious coin and selected the 
twin dolls which she would take to the cathedral. 

As she turned away, the rosy glow faded from 
the western sky, and suddenly, all over the great 
prado, lights appeared in the streets and houses. 

Then there was gaiety, indeed; with more talk- 
ing and laughing and singing; with a strumming of 
guitars, a rattling of tambourines, and a snapping 
of castanets. 

In the tents and casetas, thrown wide open so 
that the passers-by could look in on the merry 
scene, pretty senoritas were dancing the Sevilliana, 
with a stamping of their little feet and a whirhng 
and twirling of their skirts. 

But of all the girls who danced that last night 
of the great fair, not one was prettier or more 
graceful than Josef a, who swayed and poised be- 
fore an admiring throng; and surely none had a 
lighter heart than hers, as she slipped her hand 
into her pocket to touch the two tiny dolls that 
were to bring her happiness. 


CHAPTER IX 


BESIDE THE FOUNTAIN 

Wait for me here/^ Zara commanded Josefa, 
as she rang the bell at the arched entrance to one 
of the finest houses in Seville. “ I promised yester- 
day to read the palm of the lady who lives here, 
but she will have no gypsy children in her casa.^^ 

“ While I am waiting may I not walk about in 
the streets? pleaded the child, feeling the dolls 
in her pocket, and longing for a chance to take them 
to the cathedral. 

“ No,^^ replied Zara shortly; “ you will sit 
here at the gate and wait for me,’^ and she followed 
the porter across the patio and up the marble 
staircase to one of the rooms on the second floor. 

Josefa curled up on the flagging in front of the 
gate, and peered with idle interest through the 
iron grating. How cool and beautiful it seemed 
in the patio, after the long hot walk in the sunny 
streets! 

Palms and orange trees cast a pleasant shade 
on the marble tiles, and the water from the foun- 
tain dripped musically into the great stone basin 


52 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


which was bordered with a tangle of jasmine and 
fragrant lilies. From hanging baskets in the arches 
drooped festoons of flowering vines, and birds 
in golden cages filled the air with song. 

It seemed like a palace to the little gypsy girl. 
As she sat there looking up at the white outer walls 
with their flowered balconies and heavily grated 
windows, and then turned her eyes toward the 
inner court, or patio, she tried to imagine how it 
would seem to live in such a home. 

Every day I would wear a lace mantilla and 
a silk dress with a long train,’’ she said to herself, 
and I would have ladies-in-waiting who would 
sit with me beside the fountain. We would sip 
chocolate from tiny cups, and they would play 
on the guitar and sing — ” 

But suddenly her dream was interrupted! A 
child, four or five years old, appeared in the door- 
way of one of the rooms on the lower floor, and 
crossed the patio slowly, leading her Easter lamb- 
kin by a blue ribbon. 

She was a lovely little girl, dressed daintily in 
white, with a blue silk sash, and big blue bows in 
her curls. Josef a was just thinking that she must 
be the happiest child in the whole world, when she 
sat down among the flowers beside the fountain 
and began to cry silently. 

Josef a watched her for a moment. Then she 



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BESIDE THE FOUNTAIN 


53 


stood up and put her hand through the grating, 
calling softly, “ Do not cry, pretty one. Come here 
and tell me about your lamb.’^ 

But the child paid no attention. She did not 
even turn her head toward Josef a at the gate. 

Look, mi cielita! ’’ called the gypsy girl once 
more. I have two twin dolls in my pocket. You 
shall see them if you will stop crying.” 

But still the tears rolled faster and faster down 
the pale cheeks, and the child seemed not to hear 
Josef a’s voice. 

Just then a flower-girl came to the gate with a 
heaping basket of roses and lilies for the lady of 
the casa, and when the maid admitted her, 
Josef a slipped in unnoticed and ran to comfort 
the weeping child. 

“ Do not cry,” she begged. Come, let us play 
together. Here are my two dolls. See how pretty 
they are,” and she held out the tiny twins invitingly. 

The little girl looked at Josef a with great, 
wondering eyes, as if she did not understand her 
words; but when she saw the dolls she stopped 
crying and took one of them timidly in her hand. 

My doll is a Spanish princess,” Josefa began 
to play. I will give her this white silk gown to 
wear to the court ball,” and she picked a hly from 
its slender stem and slipped it over the doll’s 
shoulders. 


54 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Here is a dress for your princess/’ she went 
on eagerly, holding out a pink lily with golden 
stripes; but when she would have taken the doll 
it slipped out of the child’s hand and fell into the 
water in the stone basin. 

The goldfish that had been floating lazily on the 
surface of the pool, looked in mild surprise at this 
strange fish; and when Josef a plunged in her bare 
arm to rescue the drowning princess, they began 
darting back and forth in great excitement, 

A smile brightened the sad face of the little 
Spanish girl, and she dipped her own hand daintily 
into the water to frighten the goldfish; but still she 
did not speak a word, and even when she laughed, 
no sound came from her lips. 

Josefa’s nimble fingers chased in and out after 
the fish. “ They are naughty children,” she said. 
“ They have run away from school, and we must 
catch them and send them home.” 

But at that moment a door opened on the bal- 
cony, and Zara came out, followed by the lady of 
the casa. When they saw the children playing 
beside the fountain, the two women stared for 
a moment in amazement, and then, with one accord, 
hurried down the marble staircase and across the 
patio. 

What are you doing here? ” cried Zara in an 
angry voice, catching Josefa roughly by the shoul- 


BESIDE THE FOUNTAIN 55 

der, while the Spanish lady stooped down to gather 
her little daughter in her arms. 

But the child had taken a sudden fancy to this 
new friend, and would not be parted from her. 
She threw both arms around Josefa’s neck and 
began to cry once more. 

Josef a tried to comfort the weeping child, offer- 
ing to give her both the treasured dolls, and prom- 
ising to come again some day to play with her; 
but the little girl only shook her head and clung 
more tightly, while Zara scolded, and the mother 
rang the bell and ordered the servants to send the 
two gypsies away at once. 

It was at this moment that the master of the 
house opened the gate, and rode into the courtyard 
on a splendid white horse. 

What is all this trouble about? he questioned 
sternly. Then he, too, stared in amazement, for 
here was the httle dancer of Granada, the gypsy 
child for whom he had bought the Easter lamb, 
here in his own patio with his darling Chiquita 
in her arms! 

His wife began to explain breathlessly how the 
gypsy woman had come to read her palm, and how 
she had promised happiness to their Httle daughter; 
and Zara chattered at Josef a in Romany, urging 
her to come away, and trying to drag her toward 
the gate! 


56 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


But the master of the house raised his hand. 
Be still! ” he commanded. “ If Chiquita wishes 
to have Josef a stay, she shall stay. Is there any- 
thing I would not do for her, to make her happy? 
Then turning to Zara he said, in a friendly way. 
Let Josef a stay with us to-day. She shall play 
here in the patio with Chiquita, and to-morrow 
you may come for her again.’^ 

Zara mumbled something under her breath 
about Spanish airs and graces, and looked at the 
don and his lady with her fierce black eyes as if 
she would like to snatch Josef a away from them; 
but in the end she went back to the gypsy camp 
across the river and left the two children together. 

It did not take Josefa long to discover that the 
little Spanish maiden could neither hear nor speak; 
but that made little difference in their games. 
Enita, too, had been speechless through all the 
long, happy days in Granada. Yet she was the 
best of playmates, and surely, Chiquita, who 
could run and dance, and smile the sunniest of 
happy smiles, was better than any doll, — better 
even than her treasured Enita. 


CHAPTER X 


BUILDERS OF SPAIN 

It was May in Seville, — May, the loveliest 
month of all the year in the sunny city which is 
the “ pearl of Andalusia/^ 

The streets were still thronged with happy, 
chattering men and women, and pretty girls 
leaned from the balconies to smile at their friends 
below; but the tourists, who had journeyed from 
far and near to see the Holy Week processions, 
had long since gone on their way, and the peddlers 
and beggars, the gypsies and traders, who had 
come to the great fair to sell their wares, had al- 
ready turned their faces toward home. 

The prado outside the city, where the fair had 
been held, was silent and deserted. The casetas 
were closed and shuttered, the tents and booths 
had disappeared, and the long festoons of twinkling 
lights which had made the nights like fairyland, 
had been taken down and packed away for another 
year. 

The gypsy caravans were winding their way over 
the plains and hills toward Granada, and the 


58 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


distant cities of the north and east. Among them 
was the one led by Bino with his rickety wagon 
and his three mules driven tandem. 

Bino sat on the high seat and cracked his long 
whip over the head of the leader; but in the back 
of the wagon Zara sat alone with Chico, for Josefa 
had been left behind in Seville to spend a whole 
year in the family of Don Carlos Pina y Barrios. 

The bargain between the rich Spaniard and the 
two gypsies had not been made easily. It was only 
after many hours of pleading and persuading on the 
part of the gentle Doha Dolores, and many offers 
of gifts and money from Don Carlos, that Zara 
at last scowlingly consented to leave Josefa with 
Baby Chiquita, who already loved her so dearly. 

The child shall have the best dancing-masters 
in Seville,” Don Carlos had promised. She shall 
live with us as our own daughter, and shall travel 
with us wherever we go,” and he had slipped a 
purse well filled with gold into Bino’s outstretched 
hand. 

But Zara had not been willing to leave Seville 
without one last loving look at Josefa, so Bino 
drove his mules through the winding streets of 
flat-roofed, Moorish houses. When he reached 
the finest one of all, he stopped, that Zara might 
stand in the deep entrance and look through the 
wrought-iron gateway to the patio within. 


BUILDERS OF SPAIN 


59 


For a long time she stood there gazing in unob- 
served, until finally Bino climbed down from his 
seat and stood beside her. 

Josef a was playing with Chiquita among the 
flowers, and two ladies, dressed in white, sat in the 
shade of the orange trees, sewing on soft-colored 
silks. In a far corner of the patio was a boy about 
Josefa’s age, tall and slender, with black eyes and 
soft black hair. He held an open book in his hand, 
and seemed to be trying to study, but his eyes 
often wandered from the printed page to the group 
beside the fountain. 

Suddenly Bino plucked Zara by the arm. Jo- 
sefa is better there than in the caves of Granada,’^ 
he muttered. We coifld not keep her always. 
There is good Spanish blood in her veins, and it 
is well that she should learn to live as her father 
and mother lived before her. Come, let us be off,’^ 
and he climbed into his seat and gathered the reins 
in his hand, while Zara curled up among the sheep- 
skins and shut her eyes, as if to shut out everything 
but this last picture of Josef a. 

As Bino’s wagon went rattling down the street, 
the boy in the corner of the patio closed his book 
and walked slowly to his mother’s side, stopping 
to pick a yellow carnation which he tucked into 
her hair. 

‘‘ My mother, may I not have a holiday? ” he 


6o 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


pleaded, putting his hand tenderly on her shoulder. 

It is only a week since I came home from school, 
and there is the whole long summer in which to 
learn my lessons.’’ 

His mother looked up at him with a loving 
smile. “ We shall soon be going to Cadiz with 
your father, and the summer will fly away as if it 
had wings,” she answered; but you may have 
this one holiday if you will tell me what you are 
going to do with it.” 

First I am going to play for a little while with 
Chiquita and try to find out why she has taken such 
a fancy to that little black-eyed gypsy,” replied 
Ramon. 

His mother shook her head. Josef a is not a 
gypsy,” she said. “ Bino told your father all about 
her, but it is a great secret and you must not 
speak of it at all.” 

Ramon looked interested at once. “ A mys- 
tery! ” he exclaimed, “ tell it to me. I will close 
my lips on it forever,” and he crossed his heart 
to seal the promise, as children do the world over. 

“ No,” his mother replied firmly, it is not 
my secret and I cannot tell it. Run, now, and ask 
Josef a to give Chiquita an orange. The child 
will not eat one for anybody else.” 

Ramon picked a ripe orange that hung on the 
branch above his mother’s head, and crossed the 


BUILDERS OF SPAIN 


6i 


patio to the fountain where the two little girls 
were playing. 

“ It is for Chiquita/^ he said, tossing the golden 
ball into Josef a’s lap. “ My mother wishes to 
have her eat it.^’ 

Josef a tore away the thin skin and opened the 
pockets to take out the seeds. Then she arranged 
them on a plate made of leaves and flowers, and 
showed Chiquita, by signs, that each little yellow 
bird must fly into the cage behind the baby’s 
red lips. 

I thought you were studying your lesson,” 
she said, as the boy stood watching his httle sister. 

“ So I was, but it was very dull, and I pre- 
ferred to have a holiday,” he told her. 

“ It must be wonderful to be able to read the 
words in such big books, and to understand what 
they mean,” she said, clasping her hands. “For 
myself, I cannot read, and I know nothing at all. 

“ What was your lesson about? ” she asked after 
a moment. 

“ It is history, and I hate it,” replied the boy 
petulantly. “ To-day I had to study about the 
‘ Builders of Spain.’ As if I cared who built 
Spain! ” 

Josef a looked at him in amazement. “Was 
Spain built then? ” she questioned. “ I thought 
it had been here for ages and ages.” 


62 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Ramon threw back his head and laughed. So 
it has/^ he answered. The ^ Builders of Spain ^ 
are the nations who came here to conquer the 
Spaniards. They built wonderful cities, and made 
Spain a rich and fertile country; and they left 
walls and towers and bridges and palaces which 
are still standing, and which tell us tales of the 
glories of the past,” he quoted glibly from his 
lesson. 

“ Is it so? ” murmured Josefa, drawing in her 
breath. These nations, then, who were they? 
I have never heard of them before.” 

Ramon sat down on the marble bench beside 
the fountain, and counted off the conquering 
nations on his fingers. 

First there were the Romans,” he began. 

They came over here from Italy hundreds of 
years before the birth of Christ, and after they had 
conquered the tribes who were living here then, 
they built magnificent cities, with fine roads from 
one to the other. They spanned the rivers with 
bridges, and brought water from the mountains 
in aqueducts. 

“ They liked Spain better than any of their 
provinces, and they used to come here to rest, or 
to spend the summers on their rich estates. Ever 
so many of the emperors and famous men of Rome 
were born here, and some of them came back to 


BUILDERS OF SPAIN 63 

live in peace when they gave up being warriors 
and statesmen.” 

Josef a took Chiquita in her lap and began to 
make a wreath for her, threading white blossoms 
on a tough fiber which she pulled from a palm tree. 

Yes, and what next? ” she asked eagerly. 

“ Next there were the Goths who came down 
from the north and conquered the Romans,” re- 
plied the boy. “ The Goths lived here three hun- 
dred years, but they were fighting most of the 
time and did very httle to build up the country. 

Then came the Moors, — ” 

The Moors,” Josefa repeated, I have heard 
of them before,” and she sighed as she thought of 
her dear Enita, who was to have been a Moorish 
queen with silks and laces, and jewels in her hair. 

Yes, the Moors,” Ramon continued. They 
came over from Africa, in 711, and put an end to 
the Gothic rule of Spain. They built beautiful 
mosques and palaces, and had a wonderful system 
of watering their gardens and vineyards, so that 
they made the hot dry lands very fertile. 

But Ferdinand and Isabella conquered the 
Moors, and they were finally driven out of the 
country. Ever since then Spain has belonged to 
the Spaniards, and they have built fine cities and 
splendid cathedrals, for they are Christians, and 
Spain is a Catholic country. 


64 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


“ That^s all there are of the ‘ Builders of Spain/ ” 
he added, counting them off once more, — the 
Romans, the Goths, the Moors, and the Spaniards.” 

“ The Moors built the Alhambra in Granada,” 
Josefa ventured timidly. It was their palace 
and fortress. I have seen it many times.” 

There are pictures of it in my books, but I 
didn’t stop to look at them,” replied Ramon care- 
lessly. ‘‘ There is a picture of the Alcazar, here 
in Seville, and of the old mosque in Cordova, too. 
They were both built by the Moors.” 

I’d like to see the pictures of the Alhambra,” 
Josefa said rather wistfully. 

“ Come, and I’ll show them to you,” the boy 
volunteered. There are only five or six in my 
book, but there is a fine book in father’s library, 
all full of splendid colored pictures, with stories 
about the courts and fountains. I’ll read them to 
you, if you wish.” 

Josef a’s eyes shone with delight, and, that after- 
noon, if Zara’s gypsy vision could have looked 
back over the dusty road into the pleasant patio 
as easily as it could scan the future for her fortune- 
telling, she would have seen two heads bent eagerly 
over a large book, while the girl studied the pictures 
and the boy read aloud the history which he had 
thought he did not like. 


CHAPTER XI 


IN THE GOLDEN AGE 

JosEFA stood beside the rail of a river steamer, 
looking off at the roofs and towers of Seville. 

It was early morning, and the light breeze that 
swept the deck fanned her cheeks and played with 
the soft curls on her forehead. 

In the city it had been hot and dusty. The 
glaring sun had made the white walls dazzling 
to the eyes; and even the pleasant patio, with 
its screens and awnings, had seemed stifling to the 
child, accustomed as she was to the free, out-of- 
door hfe of the gypsies. 

But here, on the steamer, how cool and beautiful 
it was I The boat had just left the dock and was 
slipping down the river with the tide, — down the 
Guadalquivir to the sea! 

Josef a was so happy that she could not keep 
her feet from dancing, as she ran forward to see 
the boat make its way out into the current, and 
then hurried back to watch the city slowly disap- 
pearing in the soft blue haze. 

It had been more than a month since Bino and 


66 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Zara drove away toward Granada, leaving Josef a 
behind them in the beautiful Spanish home. 
Now the whole family — Don Carlos, and Doha 
Dolores, Ramon and Chiquita, Josefa, a tutor 
and a nurse — were on their way to Cadiz and Mal- 
aga, to see what the sea breezes from the Mediter- 
ranean would do for the httle daughter. 

Josefa was thinking of the child, as she stood 
waiting for the nurse to bring her out on the deck. 
‘‘ She is better than all the dolls in Spain, even if 
she can’t hear or speak,” she said to herself; and 
I love her more than I ever loved anyone, except 
Biho and Tia Zara. She is like the sister Enita 
and I used to pray for in Granada.” 

Then as she stood there, looking down at the 
muddy yellow river, she began humming a gay 
little tune, swaying her body and snapping her 
fingers softly to mark the time. Before long she 
was making up some words to fit the music, — a 
long string of names like the names that are often 
given to a child of noble birth in Spain: — 

“ I’m Senorita Carmencita DoHta Pepita 
Dorothea Dulcinea Isabella Tarantella — ” 
Suddenly Ramon was standing by her side. 
“ Senorita of the long name,” he said, permit 
me to ask why you are so happy this morning? ” 

I am always happy, Senor Ramon Gonzalo 
Carlos Fernando Pina y Barrios,” Josefa sang. 



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IN THE GOLDEN AGE 


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Why should I not be happy this morning? 
she added with a smile. “ Here I am on this boat 
sailing down to the sea, and who knows what ex- 
citing adventures may He before me? ’’ 

“ Christopher Columbus sailed up and down this 
river,” Ramon told her, and he was always 
having adventures. There was plenty of excite- 
ment for him when he crossed the unknown ocean 
and discovered the New World for Spain.” 

That is true, and I am glad to hear you speak- 
ing of Columbus,” said Senor Gasparo Nunez, 
the tutor, coming to join the children on the deck. 

You will learn more history and geography by 
travelHng over the country than by studying all 
the books on your shelves.” 

Josef a looked up at him timidly. I have ridden 
many miles in the gypsy caravans with Bino and 
Zara,” she said, “ and I know nothing at all about 
history, Senor Gasparo.” 

That is because you had no one to tell it to 
you,” replied the tutor. When you see Palos, 
where Columbus set sail on his first voyage, and 
the great monument at Madrid which has been 
erected to his memory, you will never forget the 
stories of his life and adventures.” 

Ramon has told me about him,” said Josefa; 
but I don’t understand why he is so famous.” 

‘‘ He was the greatest discoverer the world has 


68 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


ever known/' replied Senor Gasparo, for he 
discovered the western hemisphere, with its two 
great continents, — North and South America. 
He showed the way for all the later voyages of 
discovery and exploration, for all the adventurers 
who went to these strange lands seeking gold to 
make Spain rich and powerful, and for all the people 
who went to live in these Spanish possessions." 

Turning to Ramon, he added, You have heard 
that the sun never sets on the British Empire, 
but there was a time, not long after Columbus 
discovered America, when Spain was by far the 
greatest empire in Europe. It had colonies all 
around the world, and even to this day the inhabit- 
ants of those colonies still hold to the Spanish 
language and customs." 

‘‘Tell me more about Columbus," suggested 
Josefa, who liked stories of adventure although 
she did not understand this talk of colonists and 
empires. 

So while the steamer glided slowly down the 
river, stopping now and then at some small town 
to leave passengers or take on freight, Ramon and 
the tutor sat on the stern under an awning, telling 
Josefa one story after another of the famous Span- 
ish explorers. 

They told how King Ferdinand and Queen Isa- 
bella gave Columbus a royal welcome when he 


IN THE GOLDEN AGE 


69 


came back from his first wonderful voyage; how 
he showed them the gold and silver, the curious 
birds and beasts, and the Indians he had brought 
with him from this strange foreign land, and how 
the king invited him to eat at his table and allowed 
him to ride by his side through the streets. 

Then they told tales of the two famous adven- 
turers, — Cortez, who conquered Mexico, and 
Pizarro, who conquered Peru. 

When Cortez first landed in Mexico, said 
Ramon, the country was peopled by civilized 
Indians who were called Aztecs. Their fields were 
very fertile, and they had great quantities of gold 
and silver which they had taken from their mines. 

Their king’s name was Montezuma, and when 
he came out to the gates of the city to meet Cortez, 
he was borne on a litter which was shaded by a 
canopy sprinkled with jewels and fringed with 
silver. His cloak was covered with pearls and other 
precious gems, and on his feet he wore golden 
sandals. 

In a few months Cortez made Montezuma 
a prisoner, demanding presents of gold and jewels 
for King Charles of Spain; but it was more than 
five years before he finally conquered the Aztecs 
and added the great, rich country of Mexico to 
the Spanish Empire.” 

By this time five or six other boys and girls, 


70 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


who were also going with their parents to some of 
the towns on the coast to escape the heat of the 
city, had come to join the group under the awning, 
and now one of them called attention to a great 
drove of bulls in a salt marsh beside the river. 

The bulls were handsome, powerful-looking 
creatures, standing knee-deep in the green rushes 
that lined the bank. Most of them were glossy 
black, shining like pohshed ebony, but a few were 
marked here and there with white. 

The boys immediately began to select their 
favorite, naming this or that matador whom they 
would Hke to see with him in the ring, and for a 
time the talk was all about bull-fights, the girls 
joining in eagerly to tell of exciting conflicts they 
had seen. 

At last the tutor turned the conversation back 
to the story of the Spanish adventurers. 

You were going to tell us about Pizarro,” 
he said to Ramon. 

The boy shook his head. I told about Cortez,’’ 
he said with a laugh. “ Here is Enrico Hernandez. 
Ask him to tell about Pizarro.” 

Enrico, who had been lolling comfortably in 
a deck-chair, with his hands under his head, 
tossed away the pink he was holding between his 
lips, and sat up straight. 

Pizarro was one of the first adventurers who 


m THE GOLDEN AGE 


71 


went to the New World to seek his fortune/^ he 
said; ‘‘ and although he found little gold, the 
Indians told him stories of a very rich country 
on the west coast of South America. 

He came home and repeated these stories to 
King Charles, and the king gave him permission 
to conquer any country he chose, for the crown of 
Spain. So, in 1531, he set sail southward from 
Panama with about two hundred men and thirty 
horses, to conquer Peru. 

The people of Peru were a civilized tribe of 
Indians called Incas, and they were very rich. 
Every year their king travelled over his domain in 
a litter blazing with gold and emeralds; and the 
road over which he passed was swept and strewn 
with flowers. 

Pizarro soon seized the king and held him pris- 
oner, and in a short battle nearly ten thousand 
Incas were killed. The Spaniards were few in 
number, but they were armed with guns, and the 
Indians had never heard of gunpowder. 

The king offered Pizarro a roomful of gold 
if he would set him free, and in a few weeks messen- 
gers came from far and near bringing bars and 
crowns, chalices and dishes of gold, until the room 
held treasure worth more than fifteen million 
dollars. 

“ Pizarro divided this treasure among his men, 


72 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


but he did not keep his word, for the king was put 
to death and Peru was conquered and added to 
the Spanish Empire.” 

What a wicked man I ” exclaimed Josef a. 

He was, indeed,” replied Senor Gasparo; but 
he was justly punished, for when he returned to 
Spain he was thrown into prison and kept there 
for twenty years. Nevertheless, King Charles 
was glad to hold Peru, and every year vast sums 
of gold and silver were sent to Spain from all her 
different colonies. 

“ Spain was punished, too, for the wicked crimes 
of some of her explorers, for in the end she had to 
give up her possessions, one after another. Not 
long ago, in a war with the United States, the last 
of them — Cuba, Porto Rico, and the Philippines 
— were lost, and now we have to depend on our 
own resources. 

It may be a good thing,” he added, ‘‘ for at 
last our fields are being cultivated, our mines are 
being worked, and we are sending our products 
all over the world, earning money honestly by 
our labor instead of demanding it as a gift.” 


CHAPTER XII 


A SAINT IN THE HOUSE ” 

In the late afternoon, when the red sun hung 
low in the western sky, tingeing the clouds with a 
rosy glow and turning the tawny Guadalquivir 
into a stream of molten gold, Don Carlos and his 
family left the steamer at one of the docks near 
the mouth of the river, to spend the night in a 
town, on the outskirts of which the don owned 
large groves of olives and pomegranates. 

The olives would not be ready to make into oil 
until fall; but the luscious, crimson pomegranates 
were ripe enough to be picked and shipped to the 
markets of Cadiz, and Don Carlos must see that 
the boxes were ready, and that his foreman had 
plenty of helpers for the work. Even in the fruit 
orchards the Spanish habit of putting off every- 
thing for mahana,’^ must be reckoned with, and 
there is no one who takes so much interest in his 
work as the master himself. 

When Josefa came running down the stairs 
of the hotel the next morning, she found Ramon 
in the courtyard, tossing bits of bread to a peacock 


74 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


that was strutting up and down to show its beau- 
tiful, fan-Hke tail. 

* There is a saint in our house to-day,’’ Josef a 
told Ramon eagerly. 

The boy turned with a startled look, and a red 
flush of shame mantled his cheeks; but before he 
could reply Josef a continued: — 

When I went to play with Chiquita this 
morning the nurse told me that I must say a prayer 
for Our Lady of Sorrows, for whom Dona Dolores 
is named.” 

“ That is true,” said Ramon. It is the day of 
the Virgin of the Dolores, and I had forgotten all 
about it, — thoughtless son that lam!” 

‘‘But what are we going to do ! ” exclaimed Josef a 
in dismay. “ There is not a single thing in my 
box that would be a worthy gift for la dona.” 

“ Nor in mine,” replied Ramon; “ but we can 
at least buy some flowers for her. Come, let us 
run down to the market. If we hurry we ought 
to be back before she discovers that we have for- 
gotten her name-day.” 

In Spain life seems to be one long fiesta, with 
all the national and religious holidays, the local 
holidays, and the name-days. Birthdays are sel- 
dom observed; but the children, and the grown 
people, too, for that matter, celebrate the day of 
the saint for whom they are named. 


A SAINT IN THE HOUSE 


75 


(( 


if 


On this day the children have a holiday and re- 
ceive simple gifts of fruit, sweets, toys and games. 
The men send their friends cigars, cigarettes, and 
bottles of choice wines, while the ladies keep open 
house, and their presents include flowers, and bits 
of lace or embroidery; but for everyone, young 
and old, there are delicious little cakes, made at 
the pastry-cook’s, and often decorated with yellow 
frosting and candied cherries, — red and yellow 
being the national colors. 

In some of the larger cities, when it is the day 
of San Jose or the Virgin of the Dolores, the saints 
for whom so many boys and girls are named, the 
pastry-cooks are busy all night long making these 
little cakes, and in the morning the streets are 
filled with boys, in white caps and aprons, carr3dng 
trays loaded with the sugared dainties to the 
houses where there are name-day celebrations. 

As Ramon and Josef a hurried along in search 
of the market, they met one of these white-capped 
boys carrying a covered tray, and it reminded them 
that they could also buy cakes and a box of sweets. 
They asked the way to the pastry-cook’s, and it 
was not long before they had found a basket and 
begun to fill it with gifts. 

First there was a box of little cakes, wrapped in 
white paper and tied with pink ribbon, and another 
box filled with chocolate and bonbons. 


76 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Then there was a layer of fruit, — rosy-cheeked 
peaches, yellow apricots, golden oranges, ripe 
figs, and a crimson pomegranate to add to the riot 
of color. Around the outer edge of the basket 
Josef a twined feathery green vines which Ramon 
bought at a flower-stall; and tied to the handle 
was a great bouquet of Parma violets, fragrant 
as the woods in spring. 

Although it was very early in the morning, the 
market already presented a busy scene, and it 
would have been an interesting sight for a stranger 
to watch the bargaining and the shrewd buying and 
selling. 

There were stalls where fish and meat were for 
sale; and stalls for butter, cheese and eggs; but 
the heaped-up trays of fruit with their fragrance 
and their gorgeous coloring, and the pretty flower- 
girls with their baskets of roses, lilies, jasmine, 
and carnations were a feast to the eyes. 

In one comer of the market were great piles 
of fresh vegetables, tended by women who had 
brought them from their little garden patches, — 
red cabbages, tender green lettuce, big rough- 
skinned melons, asparagus, onions, garlic, and 
scarlet pimientos, — the sweet, Spanish peppers. 

Ramon and Josef a had no time to feast their 
eyes on the color, nor to stop for a whiff of the 
perfume of the flowers. They did not even glance 


A SAINT IN THE HOUSE 


77 


a 


>) 


up at the cloudless blue sky, or look between the 
white walls of the houses for a glimpse of the river 
sparkling in the sun. 

But just as they entered the small square in 
front of the hotel they heard such a curious sound 
that for a moment their haste was forgotten. 

Listen! ’’ exclaimed Ramon, catching Josefa 
by the sleeve to hold her back. What is that 
noise? It sounds like the wail of a lost child.’’ 

It sounds more like the squeal of a lost pig,” 
replied Josefa, with a laugh. 

“ It is coming nearer! Look! Do you see that 
man with the manta over his shoulder? He is 
playing a pipe. But what is that following him? 
Can it be pigs? ” 

“ It is pigs! ” cried Josefa. Did you ever see 
such a sight in your life? ” and she danced up and 
down in her excitement over this strange adventure. 

The man came slowly down the street, playing 
long, wailing notes on his pipe, and looking neither 
to the right nor left as he marched along. Behind 
him trotted a drove of pigs, — big pigs, little pigs, 
fat pigs, thin pigs, pigs with pink noses, and pigs 
with curling tails, — and out from dark corners 
and narrow alleys more pigs came hurrying to 
join the procession. 

At night the piper would lead them back again 
to their hovels, still playing his weird music; but 


78 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


now, with frisking heels and whisking tails, they 
were off to spend the day grubbing under the cork 
oaks on the mountain for a feast of acorns. 

As they passed the two children at the corner, 
Josef a stooped down and deftly caught one of the 
littlest pigs in her arms, shouting to Ramon above 
the ear-piercing squeals of the frightened animal, 
that here was a name-day gift for la dona. 

Ramon looked hastily at his watch. It is 
eight o’clock! ” he exclaimed. We must hurry. 
Look, there is mother now on the balcony! She 
sees us, I think,” and he held up the over-flowing 
basket with one hand, while with the other he 
took off his cap and swept her a low bow. 

Josef a set the pig free to go scampering off with 
the others, and blew a kiss from the tips of her 
fingers. Dona Dolores smiled lovingly at the two 
children, returning their greeting with a wave of 
her hand; but, as she turned to go back to her 
room, they could not help noticing that the old 
sad look crept into her face. 

Mother is not happy, even on her name-day,” 
Ramon said, as they crossed the square to enter 
the hotel. 

It is because she is thinking always of Chi- 
quita,” replied Josefa, with quick sympathy. 

The doctor told her only two days ago that noth- 
ing can be done for the poor child’s ears, and that, 


A SAINT IN THE HOUSE 


C( 


)) 


79 


because she cannot hear, she will never learn to 
speak.” 

There is a famous doctor in Madrid. Father 
thinks he may be able to help her,” spoke Ramon 
eagerly. 

Josefa nodded her head. Tia Zara promised 
that la dona should find happiness within the year,” 
she said; “ and every night I pray that the Virgin 
will show us how to make Chiquita hear, but some- 
times it is hard to wait.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


CADIZ, — THE SILVER DISH 

In Spain there are many lovely cities, but the 
loveliest of them all is surely Cadiz, — the silver 
dish,” as the Spaniards like to call it, set far out 
in the blue Atlantic, with a narrow strip of sand 
eight miles long to form the handle which connects 
it with the mainland. 

Its houses are white, — dazzling white in the 
bright glory of the sun, — and the flat roofs are 
topped with many an ancient tower, from which, 
in olden times, anxious merchants looked out over 
the dancing waves for their galleons returning from 
the Indies with cargoes of silks, spices and precious 
gems. 

For hundreds, nay, for thousands of years, 
stately ships have ridden at anchor in its harbor, 
for Cadiz is the oldest city in the world. 

Eleven hundred years before the birth of Christ, 
Phoenician mariners sailed bravely out of the Med- 
iterranean into the open ocean and founded the 
town of Gades on the wave-beaten Atlantic coast. 

Here, for three thousand years, the city has stood 


CADIZ, — THE SILVER DISH 8 1 

upon its limestone rock, and into its harbor have 
sailed ships from many foreign ports bringing 
wealth of gold and treasure to the sunny land of 
Spain. 

But Josef a, sitting under the palm trees in the 
beautiful park which overlooks the broad Bay of 
Cadiz, knew little and cared less for the story of 
progress that has swept over the city and far 
away to the wonderful world beyond the seas. 

She did not stop to watch the stately ship moving 
slowly out of the landlocked harbor, nor did she 
cast even a fleeting glance at the shimmering blue 
water with its foaming, white-capped waves. All 
her thought was for Chiquita, who sat beside her 
on the bench, — dainty Chiquita with her sorrow- 
ful eyes and silent tongue. 

Look, mi cielita,’’ Josefa was saying, taking 
the two little hands in hers, and gazing eagerly 
into the blue eyes, look, now, we will play the 
game once more. Your fingers are the pigeons, 
and I will hold them fast while I sing: — 

“ Ten little pigeons 

Asleep in their nest; 

White wings all folded, 

Taking a rest. 

Open the cages 
And let them go free. 

Ten little pigeons 
Come flying to me! ” 


82 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


With the words, “ Open the cages, Josef a’s 
hands parted and Chiquita’s white pigeons came 
flying out into the sunshine. 

Bueno!” cried Josefa with delight. Let 
us try it again. We will play it for la dona to- 
night. She will hke to see that you have learned 
a new game.” 

Two English ladies were sitting on a bench not 
far away, one of them holding a book idly in her 
lap, while the other pretended to be busy over a bit 
of embroidery. For a long time neither had spo- 
ken, but now, at the sound of Josef a’s singing, one 
of them said to the other: — 

“ Of what are you thinking, Aimt Elizabeth? ” 

I was watching the tide come up to cover those 
rocks out there on the point,” replied her aunt, 
“ and it reminded me of the astonishment that 
filled the early founders of the city, when they saw 
the water come in and go out of the bay every 
day. 

Before the birth of Christ most of the civilized 
nations lived around the shores of the Mediter- 
ranean Sea, where there is no tide; and although 
they were learned astronomers and mathemati- 
cians, they knew almost nothing about the geog- 
raphy of the earth. 

So when the Phoenicians sailed out into the 
Atlantic to found the city of Gades, and first saw 


CADIZ, — THE SILVER DISH 83 

the rise and fall of the tide, they were amazed 
beyond belief. Their wise men wondered and 
pondered for years over the mystery, and finally 
said that there were monstrous animals under the 
sea that sucked in the water and blew it out again.” 

As she finished speaking there was silence between 
them again for a moment before she added, “ And 
you, Ellen, of what were you thinking? ” 

Ellen laughed uneasily. “ Of nothing so learned, 
you may be sure,” she replied. “ I was watching 
those two children over there under the palm tree 
and wondering if the smaller one could hear.” 

That lovely child!” exclaimed her aunt. 

Of course she can hear. You have found a deaf- 
mute in every city we have visited. Forget your 
work for a while and watch that ship sailing away 
toward home. It will be time enough for you to 
think of deaf children when you begin your teach- 
ing again in the fall.” 

Just look at her yourself,” Ellen urged. “ Do 
you think she can speak? She watches the older 
child intently, but she never seems to open her 
lips.” 

Her aunt turned and glanced at the two children. 
Then suddenly she stood up, letting her book fall 
to the ground. Ellen Tower,” she exclaimed, 
“ do you know who the older girl is? She is the 
child whom we met in the Alhambra Park. What 


84 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


can she be doing here? Come, let us speak to 
her,” and she hurried along the path, calling to 
Josef a, in Spanish: — 

“ Good morning, my dear! Do you not re- 
member us? We are the English ladies whom you 
lunched with in the Court of Lions.” 

Josefa sprang from her seat and came running 
to meet them. Is it you, Sefiora? And you, 
Senorita? I kiss your hands! How sweet it is 
to see you again, and you so beautiful and so 
kind! Sit here in the shade and I will call a boy 
to bring you fresh water. 

These are my friends, Chiquita,” and touch- 
ing the child’s arm she made a hasty sign for her 
to greet them with a curtsy. 

The younger of the women nodded her head. 
“ It is as I thought,” she said to herself, “ the dear 
little thing is deaf,” and she smiled the sunniest 
of smiles at Chiquita, holding out welcoming hands 
and drawing her close within the shelter of her 
arm. 

Then she turned with a question to Josefa, and 
it was not long before the whole story had been 
told, — how Josefa had ridden to Seville in the 
gypsy caravan, and had danced at the Feria, how 
she had seen Chiquita weeping beside the fountain, 
and how, at last, Biho and Zara had left her for 
a year in the family of Don Carlos. 


CADIZ, — THE SILVER DISH 85 

It is like a fairy story,’’ she ended, with a 
happy sigh. 

“ But tell us about this little friend,” Miss 
Tower suggested. 

Josef a’s eyes filled with sudden tears. Chi- 
quita is deaf, and because she cannot hear she 
does not know how to speak,” she replied simply. 
‘‘It is a great sorrow, and always la dona is un- 
happy.” 

“But she can learn to hear with her eyes, and 
to speak, too, with proper teaching,” Miss Tower 
declared. “ I have taught many deaf children in 
England. If you will bring her to me every morn- 
ing I will see what I can do.” 

Josefa’s face brightened eagerly for a moment, 
but then she shook her head. “We are leaving 
Cadiz to-morrow, to spend the summer in Malaga,” 
she replied; “and I am not permitted to walk 
with Chiquita in the streets. It is only because 
the nurse is ill with the heat that we are here in 
the park this morning.” 

“ But we were going to Malaga, too,” Miss 
Tower persisted; “ were we not, Aunt Elizabeth? 
You were saying this very day that the air of 
Cadiz is too hot and moist to be comfortable or 
healthful.” 

Her aunt laughed. “ Of course we were going 
to Malaga. All the tourists go there,” she answered; 


86 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


but perhaps Josef a would not like to bother with 
Chiquita’s lessons.” 

“ I would give my life for her,” declared the 
child impetuously. “ She is my dearest treasure, 
dearer than Enita whom I lost in Seville. But 
Doha Dolores would never give her permission 
for the lessons,” and she shook her head sadly 
over the disappointment. 

Suddenly an idea popped into her curly head. 

Sehorita Ellen,” she cried excitedly, “ if I could 
come to you every morning and study very hard, 
could you not tell me how to teach Chiquita? Don 
Carlos said I could have lessons in dancing, but 
I would ask liim instead to let me learn to read, 
and you could help me. 

“ It would be our secret, and we would tell no 
one but the nurse, — not even Ramon. What 
a surprise it would be for la dona if Chiquita could 
speak, — and what happiness!” and she caught 
the little girl in her arms and kissed her for very 
joy. 

For a few minutes Miss Tower shook her head 
over the proposition, but Senorita Ellen was so 
enthusiastic and Josef a so eager, that in the end 
she gave her consent, provided that Don Carlos 
were taken into the secret. 

Josef a was too happy for words, and could hardly 
wait to listen while Miss Tower made the arrange- 


CADIZ, — THE SILVER DISH 87 

merits for their meeting in Malaga, so impatient 
she was to run back to the hotel to talk it all over 
with the nurse. 

** I kiss your hands ! I kiss your hands, Senorita ! ’’ 
she repeated over and over. “ I will try, oh, how 
I will try! You shall teach me everything, and I 
will make Chiquita speak. In three days, then, 
in Malaga! Adios! Adios! ” And with a wave 
of her hand she was off across the park hke a 
flashing beam of surflight, murmuring to Chiquita 
that happiness was coming for la dona, happiness 
for them all within the year! 


CHAPTER XIV 


UNDER THE CORK OAKS 

The next day brought three adventures to 
Josefa. One was a ride in a railway train, and never 
before in her whole life had she ridden through the 
country faster than Bino’s mules could be made 
to trot. Another was a visit to a great forest of 
cork oaks, where men were at work cutting off 
broad sheets of cork and making them ready for 
market. 

Last, and best of all, she had a surprise, a wonder- 
ful surprise in the very heart of the cork forest. 

The ride in the railway train did not begin 
until after the whole family had taken the steamer 
at Cadiz and sailed along the coast to Algeciras, 
just at the entrance to the Strait of Gibraltar. 
Dona Dolores, with the nurse and tutor, and little 
Chiquita, were going on to Malaga; but when Don 
Carlos announced that he must stop over for a 
day, to see about a shipment of cork that had not 
been delivered, Ramon pleaded so earnestly, and 
Josefa looked so wistful at the prospect of a day 


UNDER THE CORK OAKS 89 

in the mountains, that he finally consented to 
take the two children with him. 

The train was waiting near the dock, and after 
all the good-byes had been said, and everyone 
had kissed and been kissed on both cheeks, as is 
the custom in Spain, Ramon and Josef a followed 
Don Carlos to the station. 

The engine, which was already attached to the 
train, was bright and gay, with brass trimmings 
that shone like gold. Its name, Don Quixote,” 
was painted on its side in big yellow letters, and 
as it stood there, puffing and panting and throwing 
out hissing jets of steam, it seemed as eager to 
be off on its journey as was ever the knightly 
Don Quixote in Cervantes’ famous tale. 

But even on their railway trains the Spaniards 
have no wish to hurry. It was nearly half an hour 
before the station master rang his bell, the two 
Civil Guards looked up and down the road to be 
sure that no one was left behind, and the engine, 
with a great wheezing and coughing, pulled slowly 
away from the station. 

For ten miles or more the road led through beau- 
tiful farm lands, with vegetable gardens, fruit 
orchards and flower-starred meadows. Yellow 
butterflies fluttered over the fields of green wheat; 
red poppies swung their heavy heads in the breeze. 

Here and there peasants were cutting grain and 


90 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


clover with short sickles, and once Ramon caught 
sight of a company of soldiers tramping along the 
dusty road, singing as they marched: — 

“ Good-bye, father, good-bye, mother, 

Good-bye, church of the village. 

I must go and serve the king 
For the eight years that I owe him.” 

In a little while the train began climbing long 
steep grades into the mountains, and at one of the 
sweeping curves there was a station where the 
passengers had a wonderful view. Below them, 
on their left was spread the broad Atlantic, and 
on their right the waters of the Mediterranean 
Sea lay shimmering in the sun. 

Connecting them was the narrow Strait of Gi- 
braltar, guarded by mountainous masses of gray 
rock, one on the African coast, the other the tower- 
ing Rock of Gibraltar. 

“ Since ancient times those two huge rocks have 
been called the ‘ Pillars of Hercules,’ ” Don Carlos 
told the children, as the train drew out of the station. 

There is an old Greek myth that tells how the 
mighty Hercules, in his wanderings, took up a 
mountain and tore it asunder, setting one half here 
in Spain, and the other half over there on the 
African coast, nine miles away, to show the limits 
of the ‘ inner sea,’ where it was safe to sail. 

It is a singular fact,” he added, that while 



Preparing Cork for Market 

Cork is the bark of the cork oak. Page gi 


Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. 
















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UNDER THE CORK OAKS 


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Spain owns the African Pillar of Hercules, the 
one here in our own country has been held and 
fortified by the English since 1704. The fortress 
on the Rock of Gibraltar is the strongest in the 
world, and neither Spain, nor any other country, 
could ever take it away from England by conquest/’ 

The way lay now through the oak forests, and 
Ramon and Josef a began to watch eagerly for 
their first ghmpse of one of the cork villages. 

The hoary old trees had great wide-spreading 
boughs, and were set well apart, with all the under- 
growth and dead wood carefully trimmed away 
from their roots; and the noon-day sun, piercing 
the thick foliage, made a network of flickering 
light among the dark shadows. 

At the next station Don Carlos and the two chil- 
dren left the train, and it was not long before they 
had found a group of workmen and were learning 
how cork is cut and prepared for market. 

The trees are an evergreen oak, and often live 
more than one hundred and fifty years. When 
they are about twenty years old the first cutting 
of cork bark is made. The bark is taken from the 
trunk in sections, and is then soaked in water, 
cleaned, scraped, heated, and pressed out in flat 
sheets. 

A cutting can be made about once in ten years, 
in July and August, and the cork on the older trees. 


92 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


which is pink and of a finer quality, is used for 
the stoppers of bottles. The best of these stoppers 
are sometimes cut by hand; but, more often, they 
are made by machinery. 

When Ramon tried to cut some of the bark with 
his knife, he discovered why it was that the men 
were constantly sharpening their tools, for there 
is nothing that will dull a blade so quickly as cork. 

After they had watched the workmen for a 
while, Don Carlos asked the way to the village, 
where he wished to see the foreman. It was a 
curious settlement. The houses, which were little 
more than tents, were covered with the first rough 
cuttings of the cork bark, and the poor bits of 
furniture were also made of cork. 

Ramon looked in at one or two of the open 
doors; but the huts were so dirty, the women and 
children so untidy, that he was glad to wander 
away with Josef a under the trees. 

Just beyond the village they found a little girl, 
cleaner than the others and more neatly dressed, 
who had been picking a bouquet of wild flowers, 
and seemed now to be hunting for something she 
had lost. 

Josefa ran at once to help her. “ What are you 
looking for? she asked. 

The child glanced at the two strangers shyly, 
as if she were tempted to run away; but she an- 


UNDER THE CORK OAKS 


93 


swered in a low voice, “ I was looking for the very 
prettiest flower I could find/ ^ 

“ And what would you do with it when you 
found it? ’’ Josefa questioned. 

“ I want it for my doll’s hair,” replied the little 
girl, looking up under her lashes and poking the 
earth with her bare toes. 

Poor Josefa! Quick tears filled her eyes, and for 
a moment she could hardly speak. How often 
she herself had searched for a flower to put in 
Enita’s hair, but now — 

She brushed away her tears, and put her arm 
about the child’s shoulders. “ Let me see your 
doll,” she said, smiling into the timid eyes. I 
had a doll myself not long ago and I loved her 
dearly.” 

Without a word the little girl walked slowly 
to the foot of one of the great oak trees, and there, 
on a mossy stone, sat Enita, as proudly as ever she 
sat upon her throne in far-away Granada! 

Josefa stared at her in amazement; but when 
Ramon would have laughed at the poor, wooden 
plaything with its painted cheeks and faded rags, 
she caught the doll fiercely to her breast, her eyes 
blazing with anger. 

“ Do not dare to laugh! ” she cried, stamping 
her foot. This was my Enita, and she is the dear- 
est, sweetest doll in the whole world.” 


94 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


Then turning to the child, she asked, “ Where 
did you get her? How did she come to you, here 
in the cork forest? 

She came in a box of toys that was sent from 
Seville, and they gave her to me because I never 
had a doll before,” the little girl explained. She 
had a faded rosebud in her hair, and that is why 
I try to find a flower for her every day.” 

Ramon was waiting impatiently. 

Father is calling and waving his hand to us,” 
he interrupted. “It is time to go back to the 
station.” 

Josefa held the doll lovingly in her arms, patting 
the rough hair and kissing the faded cheeks. 

“ Are you going to take her away with you? ” 
asked the child, with a pathetic quiver of her chin. 

“ Hurry, Josefa,” urged Ramon; “ we don’t 
want to have to stay here in the woods all night.” 

Josefa put the doll in the little girl’s arms. 

“ Keep her,” she said, “ keep her and love her 
always. She was my dearest treasure, but now 
I have Chiquita,” and with a choking sob she turned 
and followed Ramon and Don Carlos through the 
forest. 


CHAPTER XV 


josefa’s window 

In Malaga Josefa had a window, — a window 
of her very own, with a tiny balcony where there 
were flowering plants and long festoons of trailing 
vines. 

When Josefa first saw the balcony she clapped 
her hands joyfully. I shall sit there all day long ! ’’ 
she said to herself, and she could not help thinking 
how fine it would seem to be a great lady with 
nothing to do but sit in a balcony, holding a bit 
of embroidery in her hands, and smifing and bowing 
to the people who passed below her in the street. 

But she soon discovered that even ladies with 
balconies have plenty of work to do in the world, 
and many of her days were so busy that she could 
hardly find time to select a rose for her hair or 
water the flowers in her window boxes. 

Every morning, as soon as she had eaten her 
simple breakfast of chocolate and rolls, she hurried 
off to her lessons with the two English ladies, who 
were living at a small hotel not far away. 

The aunt was teaching Josefa to read and write, 


96 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


and for an hour the poor child would strain her 
eyes and her patience over the puzzling words on 
the printed pages of her books. 

Her reward came later, in the lesson with Se- 
norita Ellen,’’ and it was almost pathetic to see 
how eagerly she would watch every least move- 
ment of her teacher’s lips and throat, puckering 
up her own small mouth and repeating the words 
over and over, in her effort to make them clear 
and distinct to the eye instead of the ear. 

Time flies as if a bull were after it! ” she would 
declare, as she picked up her books to hurry 
home before the heat of the noon-day sun; and 
in the afternoon, when she was working with 
Chiquita, it sometimes seemed as if two bulls 
were chasing the minutes aroimd the clock. 

For a few days there was not much progress; 
but when Chiquita once caught the idea that she 
was playing a game of seek and find, she would 
watch Josef a ’s lips for the word and then nm to 
bring the doll, the rose, the book, or the orange, — 
smiling with dehght when Josef a clapped her hands 
to show that she was right. 

Dona Dolores, of course, knew nothing of this 
new game and the results it was to accomplish, 
but once the secret was almost discovered! 

It was the afternoon that the two English ladies 
came to return a call, and they were all eating cakes 


JOSEFA^S WINDOW 97 

and sipping chocolate under the orange trees in 
the garden. 

Josef a was sitting quietly on a bench with Chi> 
quita by her side, while the ladies exchanged com- 
pliments, and chatted of the wonderful climate 
of Malaga and the delight of spending a summer in 
the charming old Mediterranean port. 

Finally something was said about the beautiful 
fruit orchards in the vega to the west of the city, 
and Sehorita Ellen spoke of an orange grove she 
had visited. In an instant Chiquita slipped 
down from her seat, picked a ripe orange from 
a low branch on one of the trees, and hurried to 
give it to the stranger, waiting for the clapping 
of hands which would show that she had read the 
word aright. 

Dona Dolores looked at her little daughter in 
amazement, and Josefa fairly held her breath 
lest the secret should be betrayed; but Sehorita 
Ellen picked the child up in her arms, thanked 
her for the orange, and began removing the skin 
to eat it, quite as if nothing unusual had happened. 

Aunt Elizabeth spoke hurriedly of the view from 
the cathedral tower, and Doha Dolores turned her 
head toward her guest, fluttering her fan before 
her face to hide the look of sadness in her eyes. 

Josefa drew a deep sigh of relief. In a moment 
she led Chiquita away to play with her dolls, and 


98 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


the incident seemed to be forgotten; but the very 
next day Ramon caught the two little girls in the 
midst of their game, and insisted on hearing the 
whole story. 

When he found that Chiquita could learn to hear 
with her eyes, he was as excited as any one and 
began trying her with all sorts of words, — big, 
little, red, yellow, run, dance, — clapping his 
hands as joyfully as Josefa over her success. 

But teaching her to speak was quite another 
matter. She would open and close her mouth 
obediently, and would pucker up her red lips until 
Josefa could not help kissing them; but never a 
sound would come from the silent throat. 

At last Ramon declared that they were working 
too hard. “ I am going to have a holiday,” he said, 

and so are you, Josefa. Mother has invited 
Senorita Ellen and her aunt to go with us, and we 
are going to drive up among the hills and take our 
luncheon. You have been in Malaga two months 
and you don’t know a thing about the city.” 

Oh, yes, I do, Senor Ramon Barrios,” Josefa 
replied, with a saucy shake of her head. “ I read 
in one of my books this very morning that Malaga 
is the oldest Spanish seaport on the Mediterranean, 
and it exports two million pounds of raisins every 
year.” 

Ramon laughed. And I read that the ancient 


josefa’s window 


99 


Phoenicians used to come here long before the 
birth of Christ, to salt their fish,” he said. “ Their 
word for salt was ‘ make,’ and so the port came 
to be called Malaga. 

“But reading about a place is not half so inter- 
esting as seeing it,” he added. “ The carriages 
will be here in half an hour and then you’ll learn 
all about the city and its industries.” 

It was a glorious day, as indeed are most of the 
days in Malaga, and the cool breeze from the south- 
west brought with it delicious whiffs of the salt 
sea air. 

Ramon and Josef a, in the carriage with Senorita 
Ellen, chattered like two magpies, first in Spanish 
and then in funny, broken English, and their 
attempts to pronounce some of the words were 
so ludicrous that they kept Miss Tower in a perfect 
gale of laughter. 

Just beyond the city, to the west, lay the vega 
with its luxuriant vegetation. In the fruit orchards 
most of the crops had been harvested. Luscious 
figs, peaches, apricots and pomegranates had been 
picked and shipped to many a foreign port; but 
the almond trees were still loaded with nuts and 
the gray-green olive branches hung heavy with 
ripening olives. 

Now and then they passed some peasant’s hut, 
beside which grew a gnarled olive tree, and some- 


100 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


times they would catch sight of a man among the 
branches, beating off the ripe olives with a stick, 
while his wife and children picked them up and 
tossed them into a basket. 

These olives the peasants pack away in salt brine, 
or crush to extract the oil for their own use; but 
the ohves that are grown in the large groves are 
handled more carefully and bring a good price 
in the markets. 

In a little while the road began winding grad- 
ually up the side of a terraced hill which was 
covered with vineyards, and the air was heavy 
with the odor of ripening grapes. 

Men, women and children were at work in the 
vineyards, picking great clusters of the pink and 
purple fruit, and filling tall baskets which they 
carried on their heads to the sorting sheds. 

Some of the grapes were tossed into wagons 
and carted off to the wine-press to be made into 
wine; but most of the grapes that are raised around 
Malaga are made into raisins. 

There are three or four ways of making these 
raisins. Sometimes the grapes are allowed to 
hang on the vines until they are dried, sometimes 
they are spread out in trays and turned every day 
while they are drying in the sun, and sometimes 
they are dipped quickly into boiling water to make 
them glossy, and are then dried in a hot room. 



Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. 

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The finest raisins are made from large clusters 
of Muscatel grapes, which are dried very carefully 
and then packed in layers in shallow boxes, or 
wrapped in waxed paper to be sold for table use. 

At one of the vineyards where their carriage 
stopped, the owner presented Senorita Ellen with 
a great basket of delicious grapes, which they ate 
with their luncheon, and when they were on their 
way home, and stopped to leave the basket, he in- 
sisted on their each taking a cluster of raisins tied 
up in green waxed paper decorated with gold. 

From beginning to end it had been a wonderful 
day for Josef a, and when she slipped out on her 
balcony at night to look up at the darkening sky, 
her heart was full of happiness. 

She stood there for a moment, in the shadow, 
listening to the soft lapping of the waves and the 
rustling murmur of the palm trees in the garden, 
when, suddenly, she caught sight of the little new 
moon hanging low over the western hills. 

Beside the golden crescent was a single twinkling 
star, and, as she saw them there together in the 
heavens, her old life seemed so very far away that 
she could not help wondering if she were the same 
child who played at moon and stars ’’ with the 
gypsy beggars in the Alhambra Park. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE CID 

Ramon stood beneath the balcony, two days 
later, looking up at Josef a who was industriously 
studying her reading lesson. 

“ Throw me down a rose and I will tell you 
something you will like to hear,” he called to her, 
making a trumpet with his fingers. 

How do you know it is something I will like 
to hear? ” Josef a asked, leaning over the balcony 
to drop a pink rosebud into his outstretched hand. 

Ramon caught the flower and stood there, teas- 
ingly picking off all the thorns, and arranging the 
bud in his buttonhole, before he answered her 
question. 

“ My father had a letter from Madrid this 
morning,” he said at last. The doctor will soon 
be ready to see Chiquita, and we are to leave 
Malaga on the first train to-morrow.” 

Josef a looked at him in dismay. “ I’m not 
sure that I like your news,” she said, with a doubt- 
ful shake of her head. ‘‘We were all so happy 
here together that I don’t like to go away.” 


THE cm 


103 


“ But I am going back to school next week/’ 
Ramon reminded her; “ and Senorita Ellen and 
her aunt have to be in England by the first of 
October. Mother thinks they may be willing to 
go as far as Madrid with us, if you run down and 
ask them.” 

I’ll go this very minute,” cried Josefa eagerly, 
and it was not long before she was standing at their 
door, excitedly explaining the new plans and urging 
them to go to Madrid on the morrow. 

“Oh, please dol ” she begged, as she saw the 
look of hesitation in Miss Tower’s eyes. “ If the 
doctor finds that he can do nothing for Chiquita, 
then Senorita Ellen will be there to comfort Dona 
Dolores and tell her about the school in England 
where they teach deaf children to speak.” 

Miss Tower put on her glasses and began himting 
for her time-tables. “You certainly have an en- 
gaging way of making plans,” she said with an 
indulgent smile, “ and we will go with you if we 
can make all the arrangements for the journey.” 

“ Don Carlos will attend to everything,” Josefa 
told them, and with a wave of her hand she was off 
to help Dona Dolores. 

When they arrived at the railway station the 
next morning, nearly half an hour before train- 
time, as is necessary in Spain, the English ladies 
found that Don Carlos had, indeed, attended to 


104 JOSEFA IN SPAIN 

everything. There were seats for everyone in 
the first-class compartments, with flowers and 
fruit, and dainty boxes of sandwiches and cakes for 
the journey, which is about four hundred miles 
and takes twenty-four hours in the slow Spanish 
trains. 

At first the way lay through fertile plains, with 
beautiful fruit orchards where the earliest crops 
of lemons and oranges were already being harvested. 
Then, as they began climbing higher and higher 
among the hills, there were tunnels and gorges, 
narrow mountain passes, and deep valleys through 
which wound the silver thread of a river spanned by 
a lofty bridge. On the banks of the rivers women 
knelt to wash their clothes, rubbing them on a 
smooth board or pounding them on a rock. 

Ramon was eager to point out all the interesting 
sights, — the ruined castles and deserted convents, 
the whitewashed villages nestling among the hills, 
and the salt lakes, encircled by a thick crust of 
salt after the hot dry months of summer. 

But Josef a sat quietly beside the window, look- 
ing out at the flying landscape, and toward noon 
Ramon took the seat by her side. 

'' Here's a fig for your thoughts, little sister," 
he said, holding out a basket of luscious fruit. 

Josefa took a cluster of grapes, instead, and 
pressed one of them between her red lips, but 









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she did not reply at once. Suddenly she pointed 
to a range of snow-capped mountains in the dis- 
tance. 

They are the Sierra Nevada which we used to 
see from Granada,” she said. Don Carlos told 
me we should see them, and I have been watching 
all the morning.^^ 

Then, as they slipped into another tunnel and 
out again into the sunshine, she continued: — 

“ I was thinking, brother Ramon, that we could 
have played many games in the Alhambra Park, 
if I had not been such a little know-nothing.” 

Are you wishing already to go back to Gra- 
nada? ” Ramon asked anxiously. 

Josefa shook her head. No, it is not that,” 
she answered; but in Granada we played always 
at ‘ el toro,^ or the court ball, and now we could 
have such wonderful games about the Moors, 
and about Ferdinand and Isabella, and about Co- 
lumbus begging for money and coming back later 
to tell of his adventures. Then there is the Cid. 
I was reading about him only yesterday.” 

The Cid,” Ramon interrupted, — there^s 
a hero for you, — the Cid! ” and he straightened 
himself in his seat, as if the mere name were an 
inspiration, — the name of the favorite hero in 
Spain, the Cid of a thousand battles, the Cid of 
legend and romance. 


I06 JOSEFA IN SPAIN 

Last year our French class read a play about 
the Cid/^ he went on eagerly. “ Our teacher tried 
to tell us that some of the stories of his adven- 
tures are not true; but you’ll never find a boy in 
Spain to doubt them.” 

“ Why was he called the Cid? ” questioned 
Josefa. 

“ It is an Arabic word that means lord or chief,” 
Ramon answered. His name was Rodrigo Diaz, 
but the Moors called him ‘ El Cid Campeador,’ 
the Lord Champion, because he was such a great 
warrior and conqueror.” 

Then, with flashing eyes, the boy told one tale 
after another about the famous hero, — how, when 
he was only a lad, he killed a man who had insulted 
his father; how he captured five Moorish kings 
who invaded Castile; how, for twenty months, 
he waged war against the city of Valencia, until 
he took it from the Moors; and how, the next 
year, when they came again, thirty thousand strong, 
to win it back, he swept out of the gate with his 
company of knights and drove them away as if 
they were sheep, killing fifteen thousand in one 
battle. 

“ Hundreds of poems and ballads have been 
written about the Cid,” he said at last. “ There’s 
one that tells how he took a raging lion by the mane 
and led him to his den; and another relates how 


THE cm 


107 


he borrowed money of some rich merchants to 
carry on his campaign, giving two heavy oaken 
chests as security. The chests were filled with 
sand, and when the merchants discovered it they 
were very angry, but he replied: — 

“ ‘ Nor let them think that only sand 
These coffers twain did hold; 

My truth lay buried there as well, 

As good as any gold.’ 

That shows that he loved honor as well as 
fighting,’^ Ramon concluded. “ I would rather 
be like him than like anyone else in the whole 
world,’’ and he squared his shoulders and held 
his head high, as if he were ready that moment 
to follow the lead of his hero, El Cid Campeador. 


CHAPTER XVII 


HAPPY DAYS IN MADRID 

How can it be possible that we have been in 
Madrid a whole week? ” Josefa said, half aloud, 
laying aside the book she had been reading to 
look at the Hving picture-book of the beautiful 
park of Madrid, where she was spending the morn- 
ing with Chiquita and the nurse. 

Chiquita, both hands full of flowers, was playing 
with half a dozen babies who were toddling around 
in the sun, and the nurse, in a starched apron and 
a white cap with long streamers of rose ribbon, 
was sitting beside Josefa with folded arms. A 
Spanish nurse is a very important person in the 
household, deciding what the children shall eat, 
how they shall dress, when they shall walk, ride, 
play and sleep, and she is far too dignified to do 
any kind of work, even a bit of embroidery or 
knitting. 

So, now, Marinella, with watchful eyes ever on 
Chiquita, had been sitting stiff and straight on 
the bench for more than an hour. 


HAPPY DAYS IN MADRID I09 

What is that you were saying? ” she asked, as 
she heard the murmur of Josef a’s voice. 

“ I was saying that I can hardly believe we have 
been in Madrid a whole week,” Josefa repeated; 
“ but we came on Saturday, and here it is Saturday 
again.” 

Time flies because you are happy,” the nurse 
told her. It is only sad days that creep like a 
snail.” 

“ How can I help being happy? Think of all 
the good times I have had,” and Josefa began count- 
ing off the days on her fingers. On Monday I 
went with Senorita Ellen to see the Prado Museum, 
with all the wonderful pictures of Spanish beauties 
and Spanish babies, — the dearest babies you ever 
saw, Marinella. 

“ Then, on Tuesday, we went to see the royal 
palace, where the king and queen live; and we saw 
the royal guard, and the royal library with thou- 
sands and thousands of books. I’d like to stay 
there days and days and read them! ” and Josefa 
picked up her own book as if she were ready to 
begin the reading at once. 

But Marinella had been quiet long enough, and, 
besides, she hked to hear Josefa’s happy chatter. 

‘‘ What did you do on Wednesday? ” she asked. 

A look of sadness came into Josef a’s eyes. It 
was on Wednesday that the doctor saw Chiquita 


no 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


and told Don Carlos that nothing could ever be 
done to make her hear/’ she said; but her face 
lighted with a smile as she added, “ It was on 
Wednesday, too, that we showed Doha Dolores 
the game of words we had been playing, — Chi- 
quita and I. Then Sehorita Ellen came to tell 
her about the school in London, and almost be- 
fore we knew it Don Carlos was sending for a 
teacher, and planning to have Chiquita learn to 
hear and speak. Truly, that was the happiest 
day of aU.” 

Marinella nodded her head. ‘‘ God never 
wounds with both hands,” she said, quoting an 
old proverb. “If He sends sorrow. He sends joy 
to go with it. He watches over His children as 
a shepherd watches his sheep.” 

Josef a opened her book again. “ San Isidro says 
that He loves everything, — even the birds and 
beasts,” she said. “ Look, Marinella, this is one 
of my gifts from Senorita Ellen when she was going 
home to England yesterday. It is all about our 
saints. Let me read you one of the stories,” and 
she began, in her eager, high-pitched voice, the 
story of San Isidro, the patron saint of Madrid. 

“ Isidro was a poor man, and he had to work 
very hard, digging wells and cellars, and ploughing 
the fields for the farmers; but he was always kind 
and thoughtful. 


HAPPY DAYS IN MADRID 


III 


“ In the spring mornings he would scatter 
grain for the birds, calling softly, ' Eat, God’s 
little birds, for when our Lord looks down from 
heaven He sees us all.’ And when he planted 
seeds of wheat and barley he would say, ^ This 
one is for God, this one for us, this for the birds, 
this for the ants.’ 

^ For the ants! ’ the peasants would exclaim, 
laughing a little at his nonsense; but Isidro would 
always answer, ‘ For the ants, too, since they are 
God’s ants,’ and he would go on peacefully plant- 
ing his seeds.” 

“ He was a strange man,” spoke up Marinella. 
“ I have seen a well he dug with his own hands, 
and the water will cure sick horses to this very 
day. It is no wonder they made him a saint when 
he died.” 

When there was a drought Isidro could bring 
rain to the thirsty fields, and if he struck a rock 
with his staff a spring of healing water would gush 
forth,” Josef a went on, turning the page. 

But suddenly her reading was interrupted. Far 
down the road came the sound of a bugle, clear 
and sweet in the still morning air. Marinella 
was on her feet in an instant, hurrying across the 
grass to catch up Chiquita, and coming back to 
stand beside the road, holding the child on her 
shoulder. 


II2 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


“ It is the queen! she said excitedly. “ She 
is coming through the park. Stand up on the bench 
if you want to see her, but don’t forget to bow when 
she passes.” 

Josefa could hardly believe her ears. The 
queen! ” she cried, “ the queen! I have wanted 
to see her all my life! ” and she climbed up on the 
bench, standing on tiptoe, and stretching herself 
as tall as possible to gaze far down the road. 

Again the bugle call rang through the park, 
and in a moment, a pair of horses appeared in 
sight, holding their heads high, and curving their 
necks proudly as they pranced along under the 
arching elms. 

It was an open carriage, and on the seat be- 
side the fair-haired queen were three children, 
two princes and a dainty princess, blue-eyed like 
her mother, with sunny, golden curls. 

As they passed the bench where the nurse was 
standing with Chiquita, Josefa caught the flowers 
from the child’s hands and tossed them into the 
carriage, bowing as she did so and throwing a 
kiss to the little princess. 

The queen bowed graciously, and then, obe3dng 
a sudden impulse, she took a rose from her lap 
and tossed it back to Josefa, smiling to see how 
eagerly the child snatched it up and pressed it to 
her lips. 


HAPPY DAYS IN MADRID 


1 13 

It was all over in a moment, and the royal 
carriage had passed out of sight around a bend in 
the road. 

Come,” said Marinella, setting Chiquita on 
her feet, '' it is time to go back to the hotel,” 
and she tramped along as soberly as if nothing 
unusual had happened. 

But Josefa could not keep her feet from skipping 
and dancing. While the nurse was still half-way 
down the street, she had thrown open the door of 
their apartment and rushed in, bubbling over with 
joy. 

Oh, Dona Dolores,” she cried, “ I have seen 
the queen! She was riding in the park, and she 
threw me this rose. Look, I shall keep it forever,” 
and she held up the flower for la dona to admire. 

Dona Dolores put her hand gently on Josefa^s 
arm. The rose is very beautiful,” she said, with 
a loving smile, “ Keep it always to remind you 
of this day.” 

Then, turning to Don Carlos, she added, Tell 
her what you have been telling me,” and she drew 
Josefa down beside her, kissing one flushed cheek 
and then the other. 

It did not take Don Carlos long to repeat his 
story. He had been to Granada, it seemed, to 
see Bino and Zara, and they had at last consented 
to allow him to adopt Josefa. 


JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


1 14 

They found you in a basket beside the road, 
when you were only a tiny baby,” he told Josef a, 
“ and they have done what they could for you; 
but they knew from the first you were not a gypsy 
child, and now they are willing to let you live with 
us,” and he smiled as he remembered how long 
and earnestly he had argued the question with 
them, and how much more than mere words it 
had cost to gain his point. 

‘‘You are our daughter, now, our own little 
daughter,” Dona Dolores repeated, taking Josefa^s 
hands in hers. “ Zara will see you every year 
when she comes to Seville for the fair; but you 
will never live with her again in the caves of Gra- 
nada.” 

Josefa’s eyes filled with tears. “ I loved Tia 
Zara always,” she said earnestly. “ She was good 
and kind to me, and I loved her, but you are like 
my mother, and Chiquita — ” 

At that moment Marinella came pufiing and 
panting up the stairs into the room, and Josef a 
caught the child in her arms. 

“ Chiquita is my sister, my red rose, my little 
white lily,” — and with a hundred endearing words, 
she danced up and down the room, her eyes shining 
like twin stars over her new-born happiness. 


THE END 


PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 
AND DICTIONARY 


A di os', good-bye ; farewell. 

A1 ge ci ras (^1 je se'ras), a seaport near Gibraltar. 

Al ham'bra, a fortress and palace built by the Moors in 
Granada. 

An da lu'si a (lob zi ^), a fertile province in southern 
Spain. 

Az'tgcs, a tribe of civilized Indians that lived in Mexico. 

Conquered by Cortez in 1519. 

Bi fio (b^'nyo), a man’s name, 
bra se'ro (sa), a brazier ; a little hand-stove, 
ca bal le'ro (ca bal ya'ro), a knight ; a cavalier ; a gentle- 
man. 

Ca'diz, a city and province of southwest Spain. 

ca'ra, dear. 

ca'sa, a house. 

ca se'tft, (sa) a little house. 

c^s'ta nets, wooden or ivory clappers strapped to the 
thumb and beaten together with the middle finger, 
cen ti mo (sen'te mo), a copper coin worth one-fifth of a 
cent ; one-hundredth of a peseta. 

Qer vSn'tes, a Spanish novelist, 1547-1616. He wrote 
^‘Don Quixote.” 

chi CO (che'cb), a diminutive ; little. 

Chi qui ta (che ke'ta), a girl’s name. 

Cid (sid), a famous Spanish hero, 1040-1099. 
ci el i ta (thi el e'ta), ‘‘little heaven,” a word of endear- 
ment. 


VOCABULARY 


1 16 

C6 Ittm'btta, Christopher, the discoverer of America, 
i 436(?)- i 5 o 6. 

C6r'd6 va, a city on the Guadalquivir River. 

C6r't6z, the Spanish conqueror of Mexico, 1485-1547. 

Do lor'es, a girl’s name. 

d6n, a title given to a gentleman. 

do fia (do'nya), a title given to a lady. 

D6n Quixote (ke ho'te), the hero of a Spanish romance 
by Cervantes. 

En i ta (en e'ta), a girl^s name, 
tor's, the bull. 

FSr'l a, a fair. 

Per'di nind, the founder of the Spanish monarchy, 1452- 
1516. 

Ga'des, the ancient name for Cadiz. 

Qi bral tar (ji brol'ter), a strongly fortified rock on the 
Spanish coast, belonging to Great Britain. 

Gra na'da, a city in southern Spain. 

Gua dal quiv ir (go dal kwiv'er), a river in southern 
Spain. 

gai'le 6n, a sailing vessel used as a treasure ship. 

Her'cu Iga, a mighty hero in Greek and Roman mythol- 
ogy ; the god of strength and courage. 

is a bgl'ia, the Catholic,” wife of Ferdinand ; patron of 
Columbus, 1451-1504. 

I si dro (e se'dro), San, the patron saint of Madrid. 

Jo sg (h5 za'), Joseph. 

Jo se fa (ho za'fa), a girl’s name. 

Mad'rid, the capital of Spain. 

Ma'la ga, a seaport on the Mediterranean coast. 


VOCABULARY 


II7 

ma fia na (ma nya'na), to-morrow ; some day ; before 
long. 

m5n til'la, a covering for the head worn by Spanish women. 
Ma ra qui'ta (ke), a girl’s name, 
mi (me), my. 

M6n te zu'mS (zoo), an Aztec emperor of Mexico, 
i 48 o(?)-i 52 o. 

PSs'chai, Easter. 

pat'l 6, an inner court or courtyard of a house. 

Pe'dro (pa), a man’s name. 

p6 se'ta (sa), a silver coin worth about nineteen cents, 
pgr'ro chi'co (chee), ^Mittle dog,” so called because of 
the lion on one side of the coin ; worth five centimes 
or one cent. 

pi ml gn'to, a sweet red pepper. 

PI zar'ro, conqueror of Peru, I 47 i(.?)-i 54 i. 

Plaz'a dg Tor'os, the place where the bullfight is held, 
pra'do, a field. 

Ra mon', a boy’s name. 

R6m'A ny, the language of the gypsies. 

se fior (sa nyoP), mister ; sir. 

se fio ra (sa nyd'ra), Mrs. ; Madam. 

se fio ri ta (sa nyo re'ta), Miss ; a young lady. 

Se vUle', a city on the Guadalquivir River. 

SI gr'ra Ne va'da, Snowy Mountains,” a range of moun- 
tains in southern Spain. 

Ti a (t^'a), aunt. 

Ti o (tee'o), uncle. 

Zara, a woman’s name. 

ZIn'ga rl, gypsies. 


SEP W 1912 



LlTTLE-PraPLE 



WlrrArrwvuuL 


BORIS IN RUSSIA 
BETTY IN CANADA 
DONALD IN SCOTLAND 
MARTA IN HOLLAND 
HASSAN IN EGYPT 
JOSEFA IN SPAIN 


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


